The Crystal Thief
by crystallica81
Summary: One crime, many suspects. All the police are asking for is for someone to own up for what they did. The suspects are keeping silent, and whoever the Crystal Thief is, they aren't giving up the Crystal without a fight. In the end, who will the Agents choose to pin the blame on and put to death?
1. The Drunk and the Stepmother

**Hi everybody! I haven't posted fanfiction in a while! Okay. So that summary was really crappy, but summaries are not my thing, I'm sorry. This is like a modern version of Disney in New York City, just saying.**

**STOP! Stop reading right now and go to the image I've posted as my coverpage. Some of it might be cut off, my bad, but look at it. Do you guys like it? Custom made! This story is just a rough draft and an idea, but I'm trying to expand it forward into something nice. **

**Reviews are appreciated! Enjoy the story, guys! **

_Somedays I love my father. Most days, I just want to kick him out of the house. But I can't. It's his house. _

_Or so he says. _

_-Wendy_

"And that…that damned constable…he…he stopped me in the streets….and you know what he asked me? Wen—wen-day? Wen-day, do you wanna knooow?"  
Wendy looked up silently at her father. He was staggering, red faced, around the room. He had just returned from a tavern in the heart of New York City and was brimming with alcohol.

"Wen-day!" he roared. "Wen-day, tell me. Do you want to know or not? If not, you're wasting my time."

Wendy just looked evenly at him, waiting for his hysterics to end.

George Darling leaned over and picked up a vase off the ground. "Confound it. This blasted vase reminds me of your sorry-ass mother. She didn't want a family. Or any of the hard work and responsibility that comes with it. I'm glad she's gone. I hope she died!" yelled Mr. Darling, and threw the vase. It smashed against the wall.

Wendy's mother had left a year ago. She had been a nice woman, but all Mr. Darling ever did was work and drink and come home and sleep. It was the drinking that helped her make up her mind. She decided to leave and never come back. She offered to take the children. But Mr. Darling forbid it.

A little body appeared in the doorway of my room. It was Michael, in his footie pajamas. "Daddy?" he asked sleepily.

"John!" Mr. Darling slurred.

"No, Daddy," said Michael, evidently confused. "I'm Michael."  
"Don't correct me, boy!" Mr. Darling yelled. "I know my children, you half-wit piece of nothing!"  
He picked up another plate and hurled it at the wall. Michael vanished.

Wendy got up from the bed and went to get Michael. She picked him up, deciding to sleep in his room. It was about two in the morning and it didn't look like her father was going to leave her alone anytime soon.

"Wen-day!" Mr. Darling hollered. "Listen, listen. So the constable; he thinks he's the biggest thing ever to strike this stupid world since hot dogs. And he struts up to me like he's some prissy peacock. Like he's that bigheaded president we have!"

Wendy closed her eyes. "Daddy."

"And he gets the nerve to say, 'Sir, you either stay sober or stay off the streets.' Wen-day, did you hear that? Like I'm some kind of nasty little schoolboy who's leaving his dorms after hours to get drunk with his friends! Does he even know who I am?"

"Do you even know who you are, Daddy?" Wendy asked quietly.

Mr. Darling narrowed his eyes. "Of course I do! I'm the most important bank manager in all of New York City, that's who I am."  
"If you know," Wendy snapped. "It'd be good for you to stay out of the bars rather than making a big fool out of yourself in front of your superiors."  
"Well now," said Mr. Darling softly, dangerously.

Wendy's reflexes shot into action. Michael whimpered against her. She didn't take a step back.

Taking a step back meant heading into the past. Wendy knew she was stronger than that.

Mr. Darling was moving carefully forward. "Well now," he said again quietly. "Who the hell do you think you are, Wen-day?"  
Wendy held her ground.

Mr. Darling shook his head sarcastically. "I bust my ass trying to provide for you and your sorry siblings day and night. Slaving away at the bank. Bringing home packs of money. Where is that money going?"  
"Booze?" Michael offered from Wendy's shoulders.

Wendy inhaled sharply. She was the one who had told Michael and John about the drinking. She had sat them down before her bed, had an important talk with them, and had made it very clear not to speak of the booze in front of their father. But Michael, being only four, of course had violated it. Wendy bit her lip.

"Booze?" Mr. Darling whispered. "Booze. Wine. Liquor. Beer." Mr. Darling turned to Wendy, looking angrier than ever. "You've been filling my son's head with lies, you impertinent little fool!" he yelled.

Wendy shook her head. "Daddy, calm down," she begged. Fear made her heart beat.

_Thump. Thump. Thump. _Went her heart.

Mr. Darling grabbed the plate, turned it over in his hands like a wheel. "Booze!" he repeated, as if he couldn't believe such a foul word could ever be associated with an important know-it-all bank manager like him. One of the biggest folk in upper New York. _Thump-thump-thump. _Her heart beat a little faster at the sight of the plate in her father's hands.

"Daddy, really, if you just stop drinking—" Wendy began.

"I take care of all four of you!" Mr. Darling raged.

"Three," Wendy corrected softly. "Three of us, Daddy. Mother is gone, remember?"  
Mr. Darling just stared at her. Then without warning, a cry of anger issued from his mouth like lava spewing from a volcano.

_Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump. Warning bell._

He hurled the plate at her and Michael.

Wendy ducked, falling to the ground. The plate smashed, shards of fine china littered across the dark maroon carpet. Mr. Darling just stood there for a moment. Then he straightened up, fixing his shirt. "Wendy," he said calmly. "Look what you've done! Clumsy girl. Clean up this mess at once, and then get on to bed. You have school tomorrow."

With his face still red, Mr. Darling started for his room down the hall.

Wendy looked up with teary eyes. "Daddy, you don't mean to say this is my fault!"  
Mr. Darling didn't say anything. Just closed the door in response.

"It wasn't your fault, Wendy," Michael whispered.

Wendy just set him on the ground. "Go to your room," she said quietly. "And stay away from the plate shards."  
Michael hurried into his room, giving the pieces of plate a wide berth.

Wendy sucked in air, went downstairs and got out the dustpan and brush, went back upstairs, got down on her knees and cleaned up the plate shards.

Just before she dumped them out into the garbage bin in the back, a single drop of water fell and made a small _plink _sound against the plate shards in the dustpan.

Wendy looked to the heavens, but it wasn't raining.

_I made a plan. On how to escape Lady Tremaine. But my plans always manage to start with MONEY. It's funny how you always need the thing you don't have. _

_-Peter_

"Peter, I've told a thousand times!" Lady Tremaine looked exasperatedly at Peter. "When you play the classical flute, you have to press down the buttons firmly! Don't just let your fingers dangle on them! And actually blow! Blow, Peter!"  
He blew. And it sounded like a cat was being crushed, the air slipping out of its windpipe slowly.

"Anastasia," said Lady Tremaine, hissing at me. "Show Peter how its done."  
"I like playing the panflute," Peter told Lady Tremaine. "For your information. This sorry piece of junk is _not_ what I play."  
"Panflutes are juvenile, Peter!" Lady Tremaine trilled, shocked at his behavior.

"That's why we call him Peter Pan," giggled Anastasia and Drisella.

"You're dismissed, Peter," said Lady Tremaine, flinging a hand dramatically over her eyes.

"Thank God," Peter muttered, and left, making sure to slam the door as he did. As he headed down the stairs, he tried not to rip his ears out as he heard Drisella's strains of "Sing, Sweet Nightingale" floating down the corridor like a screeching, howling monster.

"Cindy!" Peter called, coming into the kitchen. He greeted Pluto, Cindy's dog, and went outside to sit on the steps, waiting for her.

She was feeding the cows, speaking to them in gentle voices.

"Oh, Peter," she said, after she had finished and walked back to him. "The only bit of solitary time I get. Feeding the cows."

Peter smiled at her.  
"What's up?" she asked me in her sweet voice.

"Music lesson."  
Cindy laughed, putting the feed sack down in a corner. She went up to the grimy cracked mirror hanging on the brick wall near the stove and stared at her face. Her face was covered in muck and soot and cinders stained her apron.

Peter grabbed a cloth off the table and handed it to her. "Clean off."  
Cindy obliged. When the soot was cleaned off, he tilted his head. "Better, Cindy."  
Her skin was sunkissed and her eyes gleamed in her porcelain face. Cindy was so delicate she should've been born a princess, Peter thought. She was beautiful and doll-like, as pretty as an angel.

But he'd never really think of her as any more than a sister.

"Cinder_ella_!" screamed Anastasia from above.

"The demons are calling," she said sarcastically. "Better go."

"Guess so," Peter told her, climbing the stairs with her.  
"Cinder_ella_!"  
"Coming Stepmother!" Cindy shouted. "Give me one minute!"  
"Stop this horror right now!" Lady Tremaine was saying, gliding down the stairs. She gasped when she spotted Peter hovering by the servants' kitchen door.

"Peter!" she gasped. "Get away from there this instant! Haven't I taught you anything?"  
Peter made a face.

Anastasia and Drisella looked horrified as well.

"Do not fraternize with the servants!" Lady Tremaine hollered, her eyes glowing dangerously steely.

"Except," Peter said fiercely. "She's not a servant, is she, Mother? She's your stepdaughter."  
Lady Tremaine narrowed her eyes. "Peter Tremaine, do _not _speak to me in that manner!"  
Peter raised his eyebrows. "Peter Tremaine?" It was these kinds of things that bothered him! He was not Lady Tremaine's son. He'd rather kill himself. He had been adopted by Lady Tremaine from Anya's Orphanage after her husband had died and she had been nothing but nasty to him.

Lady Tremaine opened her mouth, and then stopped. Cindy hurried forward with the trays, balanced on both her hands and head. The tray on her head wobbled, almost falling.

"Oh, for _crying out loud_, Cinderella!" screamed Lady Tremaine. "Take care of those! Those trays were expensive!"  
Suddenly, the tray on her head fell over, leaving the eggs in a soppy sunshiny yellow puddle, the toast crumbling and breaking, the porridge making a gloopy splotch on the white marble floors.

Lady Tremaine couldn't have looked more shocked if someone had struck her with a live wire.

"I'm s-sorry," Cindy stammered, kneeling down on the floor to pick up the broken dishes, the silverware and the cracked tray, setting down the other two trays aside.

"Anastasia, Drisella," said Lady Tremaine calmly. "Take the two trays and go have your breakfast."  
Peter nibbled on his bottom lip warily. The tension in the air was as thick as butter.

Lady Tremaine stepped forward, grabbed a clump of Cindy's light brown hair.

"When I tell you to be careful," she said, snarling every word into her ears. "I expect you to be careful, you worthless little monster."  
"Stepmother, I was trying—" Cindy began. "It's hard to—I was trying to get the breakfast trays upstairs in time—I didn't do it on purpose—I promise—please, Stepmother—"

"Quit your incessant whining!" Lady Tremaine exclaimed. "Clean up this mess. And _heaven help you _if I come back and some of the stains won't come out."  
Lady Tremaine started up the stairs.

Peter got down on his knees to help Cindy with the broken plates.

"Peter!" Lady Tremaine shrilled. "Get back upstairs. Your music lesson isn't over. And ask Cinderella to bring up your breakfast as well."  
Peter didn't say a word. He only got up and began to climb the stairs to the music room.

About a half hour later, slaving away over that damn flute, he heard a timid knock on the white door.

"Come in, come in!" Lady Tremaine barked.

Cindy's face appeared there. "Stepmother?" she whispered. "There's a stain."  
Stepmother's eyes went wide. "A stain?"  
"It won't come out. I've been scrubbing for twenty minutes and—" Cindy held up her hands. They were cracked, raw, and bleeding.

"Well, keep scrubbing!" Lady Tremaine snapped. She started up the opening chords.

"If you'd only come down and see how much I tried…" Cindy paused to sniffle. "Stepmother, I can't anymore. I tried my hardest and—"

Lady Tremaine rolled her eyes and started down the stairs. She paused. "Egg," She said, eyeing the yellow stain.

"I'm sorry," Cindy whispered. It sounded like butterfly wings against skin. You had to strain to hear it.

Lady Tremaine got two red spots in her cheeks.

"She's got it coming," whispered Drisella to Anastasia, both of them smiling at the top of the stairs.

Cindy closed her eyes and braced herself.

Lady Tremaine whirled around and slapped Cindy across the face, sending her tumbling to the floor.

Peter felt nauseous. "Cindy!" he yelled.

"Everything's alright, Peter," said Lady Tremaine calmly. "Come, we must finish the song…"  
"NO!" Peter shouted. "Can't you see she tried?" He knelt down in front of her and grabbed her hands, waving them in front of Lady Tremaine's face like flags. "Do you see her hands, Mother? She has been scrubbing nonstop since we went upstairs for our music lesson! You have no right to treat her this way!"  
"Cinderella," said Lady Tremaine, coming downstairs and yanking her up by her wrist. "Peter has just cost you all your meals for today with his impertinence. I will take you upstairs to your room."  
Cindy shook her head rapidly. "No, no, Stepmother…." Tears ran down her face. Lady Tremaine ignored her stepdaughter's tears and proceeded to yank her up the stairs.

"Mother, wait!" Peter said, raising his voice as she ignored him.

"We do not raise our voice inside or outside the house, Peter," said Lady Tremaine.

He hated her calm voice, the state of normalcy she was in, despite the grim circumstances.

He hated _her. _For doing this to his best friend.

"Stepmother, please!" Cindy was begging breathlessly, choking on her tears.

"Mother!" Peter yelled. "You can't starve her like this almost every day! She'll die!"

Stepmother shoved Cindy into the hallway that held the stairs leading to Cindy's bare room in the attic and locked the door.

"That's a chance I'm willing to take," she said.

Peter balled up his hands at his side. Anger surged through him like a mighty wave.

"Oh, and Peter," said Lady Tremaine, about to disappear into the music room with Anastasia and Drisella.

"Don't forget about the music lesson."

**How was this chapter? I won't be posting so frequently, I'm sorry. I have lots of schoolwork and stuff so it'll be hard. But every weekend. Solemn promise. Bye!**


	2. Arista's Problem and the Email

_Arista, my favorite sister, my biggest supporter, the sweetest girl in the whole wide world. How can it be her? What am I going to do? Why am I in this? Why?_

_-Ariel_

Ariel Triton just stared at Arista, her sister, older by one year.

Arista was crying bucketloads, mascara dripping down her porcelain cheeks.

"Are—are you sure?" Ariel demanded, wanting to check every nook and cranny before admitting to this terrible feat. "You're only seventeen!"

Arista burst into tears. "The sad fact is last year I did a report in History about underage pregnancies and how bad they are and how they should never happen and how I would never get one because they're bad and—"

"_Stop_," Ariel said gently, taking Arista's hands. "I know you're scared."  
"Ariel, I'm _terrified_!" Arista cried. "I don't know what I'm going to do! I can't tell Daddy, or any of the others! I only trust you. Ariel, what am I gonna dooooo?" Arista wailed.

Ariel buried her face into her hands. _Oh my God. _

"How did it happen?" Ariel asked, looking up at Arista.

She flopped back on her bed. Didn't reply.

"Who was it?" Ariel tried.

No response whatsoever.

"What's his name?" Ariel whispered.

Arista shut her eyes tight. "Robbie."  
"Robbie Frayman?" Ariel questioned. "The geeky kid?"  
"He's _nice_!" sobbed Arista. "He helped me with my English essay."  
"And?" Ariel demanded. "How did it escalate from just an English essay?"  
"I snuck out," Arista paused to blow her nose on a Kleenex Ariel passed her. "And we were ina bar. Little Paulo's."  
Ariel shook her head. "Arista."  
Arista threw her head back. "I_ know_! Me. At Little Paulo's. I should've understood he was a sleazebag and left him when we went in the bar. But then—"

Ariel looked at her. "When did you know?"  
"Last week," Arista replied. "I didn't have my you-know-what."  
Ariel scratched her head, breathing out. She didn't know how to deal with this. She was just trying to get A's and graduate from Disney High without issues. But apparently, fate was against her.

Arista slid off the bed, drying her tears, and posed in front of the wall-to-wall mirror. "No baby bump," she said. "I can hide it."  
"For NOW!" Ariel exploded. "What happens when a couple months pass? It'll be bulging out of your shirt like a frickin' beach ball!"

Arista looked at Ariel again. "Are you mad?"  
"Geez, Arista," Ariel let out a breath. "We need to do something about this situation."  
Arista gave Ariel a tiny smile. "Yeah, I figured. But that's good. I have a plan."  
Ariel raised her eyebrows. "A plan."  
"A good one," Arista made a cross-my-heart-hope-to-die sign across her chest, keeping one hand on her tummy.

"Let's hear it," Ariel said, crossing her arms.

Arista leaned forward. "We both work extra jobs. We use that money to buy an apartment in NYC somewhere. Close to Disney High so I can commute easily."  
Ariel was already shocked. "Arista, an _apartment_?"  
"An apartment!" Arista's eyes were shining. "I'll live there, with Robbie."  
"_Robbie_?"  
"He's the daddy," Arista pointed out as if Ariel were a toddler. "You can visit—"

"Stop," Ariel commanded. "You are _seventeen_."  
"There are many things," Arista counterargued. "you can do at age seventeen. You can drive a car—"

"Arista," Ariel said slowly. "The easiest, stress-free way to deal with this…_predicament_ would be to get an…" Ariel trailed off.

Arista narrowed her eyes. "Ariel, come _on_."  
Ariel sighed. "Arista, you _have_ to. You can't raise a child at this age."

"Abortions are _wrong_!" Arista yelled.

Ariel was shocked into silence.

Arista dissolved into tears again, choking on her grief. "I can't. I c-can't, Ariel. I w-wouldn't b able to l-live with the pain. And the g-guilt."  
Ariel wrapped her arms around Arista. "But an apartment? Daddy will be suspicious if you say you're gonna be moving out before Attina. Or any of the rest of the girls."  
"It's the only way," sniffled Arista. "We'll have to make him understand I'm independent."  
"Right."  
"Ready to move into a new nest."  
"Yeah."  
"So," Arista's voice seemed slightly doubtful. "Are you with me on this, Ariel?"

Ariel just looked at Arista, and then down to her stomach. A baby. Her sister, Arista. Ariel would be an aunt. And keeping this enormous secret from everybody else.

She looked at the ceiling awhile. _Why her_?

"Ariel?" persisted Arista in a soft voice.

Ariel finally found the courage inside her to look Arista in the eye. "Yeah," she said at last.

"I'm with you."

_My mom asks me why I don't talk openly to her. I'm not ready yet, is my answer. And I'm not sure I ever will be. _

_-Jim_

Jim lay back in his bed, thinking.

His school was falling to shambles. It had peeling paint, lockers that didn't work, not enough money to buy class sets of textbooks, not even enough money to give the teachers the money that they deserved.

Not that he gave a crap about any of the teachers, he just wished the school would get better so he would have an ounce of goodness to look forward to every weekday.

And he thought about the stress earlier today, when his mom had called him "Jimmy." And how he had freaked out afterward. "It's _Jim_," he had said. He didn't like anyone calling him Jimmy. It made him sound helpless somehow.

And then his mom had gone on and on how she _missed _calling him Jimmy.

Well, get used to it.

Jim ran his fingers through his hair.

His iPhone suddenly pinged with an email. Jim raised himself off the bed with a grunt, just wearing pants. He could see his abs in the light of the lamp.

He bent over his phone.

An email from Sinbad_theSailor.

Jim almost deleted it into his trash folder, but something made him stop. He read the first couple of lines.

**Sinbad_theSailor:  
-Hey son. How are you? I'll be dropping by soon to pay y'll a visit. My plane is dropping me off in NYC for a business trip and I'll be staying at a hotel near our street. You guys haven't moved locations, have you? If I know your mom, she's such a penny pincher she'd never leave one place for another because it's a "great save." Anyways, just giving you the heads up. Can't wait to see my boy again. How old are you now? Thirteen?**

Jim stared in disbelief at the email. His own father didn't know how old he was? He ran his fingers along the rim of the phone, then he sat down and hit reply.

**jHawkinsbro:**

**In Reply To: Sinbad_theSailor**

**-Hey dad. I guess im good. We havent left. I'm FIFTEEN, dad. Keep track of it. And remember: I'll be SIXTEEN next year in july. id rather u didn't visit. Bcuz last time it riled evrybody up and all. So yeah. No offense or anything. G'night.**

He was just about to dive back into the comforts of his bed when his phone pinged again.

"What does he _want_?" Jim snapped, turning back to his email.

**Sinbad_theSailor**

**In Reply To: jHawkinsbro**

**-You don't have a choice but see your old dad's face, Jimmy. And I'm not a bloody idiot; I know damn well you'll turn 16 next year. And I'm sure your mother will be fine. Goodnight, son.**

Jim stared at the email, and couldn't resist.

**jHawkinsbro:**

**In Reply To: Sinbad_theSailor **

**-You can come, but we won't open the door. If you wanna make a fool of urself, go ahead. Its fine w/ me. G'night. **

**Oh, and PS**

**It's JIM.**


	3. The Assembly

**This chapter is kind of just Kida's point of view, and how she visits Disney High Monday morning with her father and Mr. Clayton, who is the principal of Disney High. She just basically gets a tour of the school, meets a few teachers, and then Mr. Clayton agrees to have an assembly with her in front of the school to tell them about how she has plans to finance Disney High.  
Ohmigosh, I am babbling way too much and GIVING AWAY way too much! Let's just get straight on with the story! Sorry, folks! *sheepish face***

**And the little italics message that introduces the different points of view are things the characters are thinking. Just a sidenote. Sorry! Into the story!  
Oh, and real quick, before I forget: **

**REPLIES TO COMMENTS: **

**Kieran: Thank you cuzin! I love that part too! **

**SweetStuff: You are just one really awesome person, SweetStuff. You're so dedicated to my stories and never fail to leave a really inspiring comment. So thank you for that! Stay tuned for more action in the upcoming chapters! **

**ClaudiaVigorous: Wellll…..you're not too far off with your suspicions, Claudia! But you'll see who the real Thief is, but later into the story! Thanks for the comment!**

**Serenadipity: Cute name, girl! Thanks! Yeah, and Arista being pregnant was actually NOT part of my original plan. But it provokes some SERIOUS tension later in the story. It involves a car accident. Sorry, spoiler alert. **

**Toodaloo: Jim IS badass! I wanted to do a solar surfing part, but since this is modern NY, I decided to change it to skateboarding. His voice actor is Joseph Gordon Levitt! What's really cool is, on Youtube, there's monologues that Levitt did, and the person who made the video added in Jim and Ariel and Silver and all those peeps. It's pretty cool! But it has some serious bad language! Just a WARNING!  
**

_Disney High is very big and elegant. But it is crumbling. So I agreed to help. I wasn't quite ready for the assembly, but Mr. Clayton was not quite ready to take "no" for an answer. _

_-Kida_

"Welcome, Princess!" Mr. Clayton announced, his voice booming.  
Kida stepped into the ancient brick building in the middle of New York City.

"The City," said her father, King Kashekim, to Mr. Clayton. "Was very beautiful. New York is very elegant."  
"Very," Mr. Clayton agreed with a smile on his tanned face. "Come along King…er…?"  
"Kashekim," the princess translated quickly. "But you can just call him King. He won't mind. He doesn't speak very good English anyway."  
"Right," said Mr. Clayton. "Kashe—it's a mouthful, his name. And what might your full name be?"  
"Kidagakash Nedakh."

"That's quite the mouthful also!" Mr. Clayton grimaced.

"You can call me Kida."  
"That's better." Mr. Clayton smiled. "As I was saying, welcome to Walt Disney High!"  
"It's lovely," Kida said, walking down the hallway.

Mr. Clayton and her father followed quickly. Mr. Clayton slapped his hands together. "Would you like to meet a few teachers? See a few rooms, Kida?"  
Kida smiled. "I'd love to."  
"Great!" Mr. Clayton announced.

He led her forward into a nearby classroom. "This is Anita Radcliffe," he said proudly. "She is our leading Literature teacher."  
"Wonderful to meet you," Kida said, bowing low.

"Oh!" Anita smiled and rushed forward. "Princess Kidaga—"

"Kida." Kida smiled.

Anita bowed to her. "Great to meet you too! My husband actually also works here. His name is Roger. He's one of the music teachers."  
"Music." Kida nodded. "I have never really listened to real music. Only music made by drums and gongs and flutes."  
"That's lovely too, dear," said Anita distractedly. Kida grinned. She seemed like that kind of person. Always kind, too nice.

"So what type of Literature do you teach, Anita?" Mr. Clayton pressed. "Tell Princess Kida and King."  
"Oh, all types!" Anita gushed. "I love historical fiction. And Shakespeare is just great to teach kids. Plays, great novels, poetry, I teach whatever. In a way, I teach a type of English, but for kids who are further advanced in that field. If they want to get a job as a writer, perhaps?"  
Kida nodded. "Literature is very important to me. I love to read."  
"Are you multilingual, Kida?" Anita wanted to know.

"Yes," Kida replied.

Anita looked delighted. "What languages can you speak?"  
"French; Spanish; Japanese; Atlantian, of course; English, Hebrew, Latin, and Swahili," Kida spoke out the list with great pride.

Anita looked on the verge of shock. "Fluently, dear?"  
Kida nodded. "Fluently."  
"Where on _earth _did you get this information from?" Anita demanded.

Kida shrugged. "I travel. I like to meet new people and learn their customs. And I'm a very fast learner."  
"Kidagakash. Has big mind," said King with a smile. "Absorb much knowledge. Like sponge. It is inside of her. She knows many things. Some things I teach. Some things she know. Many thing she go out and learn."  
Anita smiled. "That's _delightful_! You _must _attend my class at some point while you're in New York, Kida, and give my students a lesson!"  
Kida smiled and bowed. "As you wish."

"Come, Kida," Mr. Clayton called. "Let's move on. What would you like to see next?"  
"How about History of worlds?" Kida requested. "That is a particularly interesting subject."  
Mr. Clayton didn't seem to agree, but he smiled widely and led her to a classroom.

"So let's have a group review about what we learned about Greenland and its important exports and chief trades," a geeky man with big thick glasses was saying at the front of the class.

"Mr. Milo Thatch," Mr. Clayton introduced. "The youngest and most brilliant teacher we have. Mr. Thatch, this is Princess Kida and the king of Atlantis." He turned to Kida. "He teaches History here at Disney High."  
"Fascinating!" Milo took off his glasses and hurried to the back of the room. "Is it true you are multilingual, Princess Kida?"  
Kida smiled. "_Oui, monsieur."_

"_Como se aprende idiomas?_" Milo asked. (**This means How do you learn these languages? In Spanish.)**

"_Hago un monton de viajar,"_ Kida responded, as she had to Anita. (**She said, "I do a lot of traveling." Spanish).**

"Amazing!" cried Milo. "_Scire quid_?" (**Do you know Latin? In Latin.)**

"_Utique, domine_." Said Kida. (**Yes, sir. Latin).**

"Wow!" cried Milo, obviously thrilled. "Do you know Hindi?"  
"No," Kida told him.

Milo's face fell. "What else?"  
"Hebrew. Swahili. Japanese. Atlantian."

"Say something!" cried Milo. "In Atlantian!"  
"Enough!" roared Mr. Clayton. "Kida wants to move on now!"

_No, _I don't, Kida thought. But she thought it was best she went on.

"Is it time for the assembly now?" Mr. Clayton asked her outside in the hallway.

"Assembly?" Kida turned. "I don't understand, Mr. Clayton."

"We are having a general assembly," Mr. Clayton told Kida. "To introduce you and your father to the students."  
Kida frowned.  
"Just think of it!" Mr. Clayton roared, his eyes going wild. "You will have the admiration of all these students! None of them, not one, Princess, has ever met an Atlantian, _or_ spoken to royalty before. I'm sure of it."  
Kida took a deep breath. "Alright, Mr. Clayton." She said. "Assembly it is."  
Mr. Clayton smiled. "Wonderful." 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The students just kept staring at Kida, speechless.

They were watching the stage, only seeing their principal standing up there next to a gorgeous girl, very much in shape, with pale blue eyes, kissy lips, and snow white hair.

"Would you like to….ah, say a few words, Princess Kida?" Mr. Clayton asked.

Kida looked at him. "No, thank you."  
Mr. Clayton just kept smiling and extended his hand with the microphone in it.

"I'd rather not," Kida said, still keeping a frozen smile on her face. "I have nothing I want to say. I already agreed to finance your school and—"

"Would you like to hear Princess Kida say a few words?" Mr. Clayton asked the school.

There was silence, and a few catcalls from annoying boys.

"I said, 'Would you like to hear Princess Kida say a few words?'" Mr. Clayton bellowed.

"Yes, Mr. Clayton!" the students chorused.

Mr. Clayton shoved the microphone into Kida's hands.

Kida just stared at it for a while, then awkwardly moved to center stage.

"Well, hello," she said calmly. "I'm honored to be here. My father is actually here as well, but he doesn't speak very good English. Sooo….I'm here, I guess."  
Silence. You could hear a pin drop.

"You all," Kida said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Go to school in a very…_old_ place. It's rather….."  
"A dump!" some kid yelled.

"Trashbucket!" someone else followed.

"The crappiest school in the New York state!"

"Please, please, enough!" Kida hollered.

Silence again.

"It is a bit…._crappy_," Kida agreed. "I'm here to help finance so you all can have whatever you need."  
"Finance with that jewel thingy hangin' off your neck?" demanded some kid from the back. He was obviously a senior, Kida thought, because he had a goatee.

"No!" Kida said sharply, a hand going over her Crystal protectively.

The Crystal was her life force, the only remainder left of her mother. If the Crystal was ever detached from Kida's neck, her life force would be totally and utterly lost.

She'd die.

She hoped it would never come to that.

"Then where are you gonna get the money?" Goatee Kid asked.

"I'm a princess," said Kida, with a "duh" expression on her face.

Goatee Kid smiled. "You're hot!"  
Kida shook her head, shoved the microphone back at Mr. Clayton and stepped backstage.

"What's wrong?" Mr. Clayton demanded urgently.

There was too much attention on her Crystal.

"I feel sick," Kida lied.

Mr. Clayton frowned. "I'll call the assembly off. No problem, Princess."

_Yeah_, Kida thought. _No problem for you. What if my Crystal gets stolen? Some people, like that Goatee Kid, already had their eye on it. _

Mr. Clayton smiled reassuringly at her.

Kida took a deep breath and headed off the stage.

**I'm having fun writing this! So I'm trying to establish a pattern with the point of views, maybe, if you've noticed. **

**It goes: Wendy, Peter, Ariel, Jim, Kida. And I'll throw in some others along the way to make it interesting. **

**So…yeah! Thanks for the reviews so far! Keep reading and reviewing! **


	4. Bullies and Love Letters

**REPLY TO COMMENTS:  
**

**Romiette: Thank you so much! Oh, yeah, Triton's gonna find out pretty soon! But I'm not gonna spoil anything. Keep reading! Luv u! **

**Josefina Cordova: Each chapter IS building suspense! So defenitely keep reading and reviewing! Thanks for your support!  
**

**Guest: Thanks! I'll be updating as fast as I can! (As fast as the Gingerbread Man!) Sorry, that was awkward. **

_I met a boy today. He was nice. His name's Jim. I look forward to seeing his face again. And when I said goodbye to him before science, I got all fluttery. _

_Am I sick?_

_-Wendy_

"Good morning, Wendy," said Mr. Darling as she went downstairs for breakfast.

Wendy looked at her dad. "Good morning."  
"How did you sleep?"  
Wendy rubbed her temples. _Is he freaking kidding me? _"I slept fine."  
"Good, good." Mr. Darling raised the morning paper, signaling the end of the conversation.

John Darling, Wendy's younger brother came downstairs. "Good morning, Father," he said.

"Morning, John," Mr. Darling said, lowering the paper and daring Wendy to speak a word about last night to John.

Wendy bit her lip, fixed cereal for little Michael, grabbed her bag, and opened the front door.

"Wendy!" Mr. Darling called.

She turned.

"Have a nice day."  
Wendy closed her eyes. _Not likely! I have to come home to YOU! _But she just forced a smile and said: "Thanks, Daddy. I will."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

At school, Wendy was on absolute autopilot, not knowing what else to do. She stormed the halls, went to her classes, attended that assembly with the white haired princess, and started to her next class.

Suddenly, she stopped. Blocking her way was that thug Gaston.

"Out of my way!" Wendy barked at him, not in the mood today for his I-think-I'm-so-cool games.

"I just wanna talk to you, Darling," Gaston said. "Hear that? Darling! Wendy Darling, would you be my darling? My sweetheart?"  
Wendy felt her heart pounding. "You better move before I kick you where the sun doesn't shine, Gaston."  
Her words were braver than she felt.

She felt like throwing up.

Gaston laughed, and now some other kids were laughing too. "Where would that be?" he asked softly.

Wendy narrowed her eyes. "I'm gonna hit you in the balls and it'll hurt, Gaston," she warned.

"I'd like to see you try, Spaghetti Arms!" Gaston snapped, and whacked her books out of her hands, scattering them on the stairwell, her papers fluttering like flower petals.

Blinded by furious tears, Wendy bent to the ground, her hair in her eyes, trying desperately to gather up her things, which Gaston kept kicking.

"Gaston."

Gaston and Wendy both looked up.

A boy stood there, with brown hair, dark blue eyes, tan skin, and a little sailor's ponytail in back. The overhead lights made a gold hoop earring in his left ear glint.

" 'Sup, Hawkins," Gaston said, walking forward to slap Jim on the shoulder.

The two were friends? Wendy immediately decided she hated Earring Boy too.

Jim flicked Gaston's huge hairy hand off, pissed. "What do you think you're doing?"  
Gaston shrugged. "Harassing."  
"Well, quit it," snapped Jim, throwing his bookbag to the ground to help Wendy gather up her papers and books.

"Leave me alone!" Wendy hissed, furious and humiliated.

Jim held up his hands in front of him to show he meant no harm. "Calm down. I'm just trying to help."  
"Get lost!" Wendy snarled. "I don't _need any help_!"

Jim tossed her papers back at her. "Have it your way."  
"You wanna hear what she cracked on me, Hawkins?" Gaston yelled. "She _threatened _to kick me where the sun doesn't shine."  
"Awww, Gaston," said Jim mockingly. "Getting your ass kicked by a girl wouldn't help your reputation, would it?"  
Flynn Rider, who was also Gaston's friend, chuckled as he lit a cigarette. "After all, a fake reputation is all a man has."  
"Wendy, Jim luuuuuuuuuves you!" Gaston yelled at Wendy's rapidly retreating back.

Wendy whirled around, sparks in her eyes. "_Grow up_, Gaston!" she shouted. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"  
"She wants you, man!" Gaston chuckled, grabbed an eraser out of Flynn's backpack and chucked it at Wendy, catching her in the back of the head.

Jim heard what sounded like a sob as she rushed out of the school building.

"God, Gaston," Jim said, shaking his head. "Why'd you have to do that?"  
Gaston was doubled over laughing. "What, you don't like it, man? Sorry, didn't know you had a girlfriend."  
"I _don't_," said Jim, irritated. "But you don't have to harass her like that." Without a word, Jim sprinted after Wendy towards the exit.

Gaston laughed, and glanced up the stairs. "Ohhhh, _damn_, Snow!" he gasped, staring at Snow White. She was dressed in a curve-hugging shirt and a miniskirt. Snow rolled her eyes and tried to ignore Gaston as he followed her out of the stairwell.

Flynn snorted. "He's gonna be a loner for the rest of his life."

"Hey!" Jim rushed past a couple of milling schoolkids as he saw Wendy marching up the walkway to the science labs.

"Hey, you okay?" Jim asked, concerned.

"Don't touch me!" Wendy spat. "You're such a jerk!"  
Jim was shocked. "_I'm_ a jerk?"

"You and Gaston and that other one."  
Jim shook his head. "I was trying to help you! I told Gaston off!"  
Wendy burst into tears. "He's such a horrible person! Always snapping my bra strap, tearing my clothes, kicking my stuff, and harassing me on the stairwell."  
Jim sighed. "I'm sorry. I usually try to help the girls and guys he harasses."  
"Well, aren't you a knight in shining armor." Wendy kept walking, her face stony.

"Why do you gotta get all pissed at me?" Jim demanded, insulted by her demeanor. No girl had ever really turned him away before.

"Why are you following me?" Wendy shot back.

"I was trying to make sure—"

"What?" Wendy mocked in a singsong voice. "Make sure I didn't get…run over by a bus? Eaten by a tiger? Kidnapped by a pyscho?"  
Jim glared at her. "Right. It's my fault."  
"Ohmygosh, _yes_!" Wendy exclaimed. "That's what I've been saying!"

"But I didn't do those mean things Gaston did!" Jim realized he was beginning to sound like a whiny toddler.

Wendy stopped and looked him in the eye. "Why don't you take a long walk off a short pier, hmm?"  
Jim stared at her for a while. It was hard to believe this chick was for real. Then he turned away and began walking back to school. He waited.

"Wait a second!" Wendy called. "Wait, what's your name?"  
"Jim." Jim grinned. No girl could ever resist asking.  
"I'm Wendy."  
Jim pretended not to hear. Just kept walking.

"Okay, okay, _fine_!" Wendy cried. She raced back, catching up to him. "Thanks."  
"For what?" Jim asked, playing it cool.

"Ugh, you're so _annoying_!" Wendy rolled her eyes. "Thanks for saving me."  
"Knight in shining armor, remember?" Jim smiled at her.

Wendy sighed. "I'm sorry for being rude. You were nice. Thanks."  
Jim tilted his head. "You're welcome."  
Wendy stared at him for a short while longer, then turned around and began to walk back to science class.

"Dude, not bad!" came a voice. Jim turned around.

Flynn was chuckling lightheartedly.

"What?" Jim asked, incredulous.

Flynn just shook his head and headed back into the building. "Not bad for a sleazebag."  
Jim laughed. "I'm not a sleazebag, Flynn."  
"Heartbreaker, then."  
Jim shrugged. "What do you mean by 'not bad?' Is that some kind of frickin' insult?"  
Flynn shook his head. "Naw. It just means…you might have a future girlfriend right there."  
Jim watched Wendy hurry towards the science labs. "Nah, nah, man," Jim said. "She's just a cute little girl, practically."  
Flynn shrugged. "You may question me now, Hawkins, but you'll learn later."  
"Learn _what_, Flynn?"  
Flynn socked Jim in the arm. "I'm never wrong."

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

_That princess. Ohhh, she is FINE! I totally call dibs. But how OLD is she? Judging by her hair, she's even older than Lady Tremaine. Yuck. _

_-Peter_

Peter was writing a science lab report when Wendy Darling hurried in, out of breath and panting, but her cheeks were a blushing pink.

"Where were you?" demanded Ben, their science teacher. Ben was actually an acronym, B.E.N. It stood for BioElectronic Navigator. It was true he was weird, but he was very smart.

Wendy tucked a sweaty wisp of hair behind her ear. "Nowhere."  
"That's not an answer!" Ben said, raising his eyebrows.

Wendy shook her head. "I—my papers fell. In the hallway. I had to pick them up."  
"You're hesitating!" Ben sang.

"Wha—no!" Wendy exclaimed. "Can I sit down?"  
"You _may_."  
Wendy sat.

Peter stared at the back of her head. Her adorable little silver studs. Her blue blouse and white polka dot shorts. Her wavy light brown hair and sky blue eyes.

He'd had a crush on her since forever.

But he was too afraid to tell her.

_She'd never love a guy like me, _Peter thought sadly.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXx

After class, Peter saw Wendy at her locker. He waited at the science classroom door for a while until she left for her next class, then he hurried to her locker with a piece of paper. He slipped it into her locker.

**Wendy—**

**Every time I see something beautiful, like a rose, or an awesome sunset, I think of you. I think you're amazing. Not just because you're pretty, even though you are. I love you for who you are. Do you like me back? If your answer is no, maybe we can still be friends?**  
**I think you might know me.**

**Leave this in Locker 3007.**

**-Anonymous**

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Just before she went to her next class, Wendy hurried back to her locker to get a book she had forgotten. A piece of paper fluttered out when she opened it.

She unfolded it and read it. As she did, her heart began to beat faster and faster and faster.

She grabbed her blue pen and began to write, "No, we can be friends," but she changed her mind. She scribbled down something new:

**I have better idea, Anonymous. How about we talk after school?**

She slipped it into Locker 3007.

And waited. Time passed.

People filtered into the hallway. Wendy realized she had just skipped her English class, but she was a good student and she told herself she'd go back and make up the work.  
She watched. A boy with messy red hair and bright green eyes came to Locker 3007. He opened the locker, and picked up the note.

He was reading it, busy with it, and Wendy crept up carefully to him, clasping her hands behind her back. Then she tapped him on the shoulder.

The boy pretty much jumped a mile into the air. Wendy giggled, and smiled.

"Hello, Peter."


	5. The Break Up and the Invite

_I hate Eric. And double jobs. But especially Eric. _

_-Ariel _

"Ariel?"  
Ariel stopped just before she reached the door. "Yes…Daddy?"  
Triton stared back at her, sipping his tea. "Where are you going dressed like that?"  
Ariel looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a lacy white tank top with the sleeves adorned with silky ribbons. And below it, she was wearing a light blue miniskirt that flared out.

"I can see your underwear, Ariel," Attina said.

"And I can see boogers up your nose," Ariel snapped back.

"Attina is _right_, Ariel!" Triton hissed. "No need to mock her."  
"I wasn't—"

Triton held up a hand. "Change your skirt. You know I don't allow this kind of fashions."

"_Fashions_? Daddy—"

"Ariel."  
Ariel shook her head. "Daddy, it's _boiling _out there today—"  
"Ariel!" Triton raised his voice.

Attina smirked; Andrina swirled her oatmeal around her bowl, bored; Alana applied lip gloss in front of a mirror; Aquata popped a bubble; Arista sat at the table staring, a hand protectively over her tummy; Adella stared, wide-eyed around at Ariel and Triton.

"Stop—talking!" hissed Adella.

Ariel balled her hands. "What, Daddy, you want me to be a nun and wear a floor-length gown and a headveil all the time? What is so _wrong _with wearing a little skirt once in a while?"  
"Ariel, that's _enough_!" yelled Triton. Ariel's bottom lip quivered, and her eyes narrowed.

Triton softened his voice. "Go change, Ariel. Go."  
Ariel returned a few minutes later wearing a pair of skinny jeans. "Is this good enough for you, Daddy?" she asked sarcastically.

Triton smiled. "It'll suffice."  
Ariel opened the door to head out.

"Ariel!"  
Ariel turned, seeing Arista standing in the doorway, still holding her tummy. Ariel stared at Arista's hand. "Well, why don't you just glue a big neon sign that says, 'I'm Pregnant!' to your stomach while you're at it?"  
Arista guiltily averted her eyes. "So you'll be working those extra jobs today?"  
Ariel sighed. "Yeah."  
Arista gave Ariel a quick hug. "Thanks. Love you."  
Ariel noticed as Arista walked back into the house that her hand was still over her tummy.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Ariel went to her classes, the assembly, and eagerly waited till school would open and she'd be able to speak to her boyfriend, Eric Douglas.

Eric was going to have a sailboat competition that weekend, and Ariel was looking forward to attending.

When the dismissal bell rang and she spotted him leaning against the brick wall of Disney High, smoking a cigarette with a few friends, she hurried over.

She greeted him with a full-on kiss on the lips. Eric smiled, but there was something in that smile that gave Ariel a bad feeling.

"Guys, a little privacy?" Eric asked his friends. Slowly, they began to move away.

Ariel grabbed Eric's hands. "Soooo." She said, giggling flirtatiously. "What're we doin' this weekend? Partying? Dancing? Ohhh, and your race, right? Can't wait till you win it!"  
Eric raked a hand through his hair. "Uh, Ariel."  
Ariel looked up, pulling her hair over one shoulder.

Eric stared at her for a long time.

"What?" Ariel asked, feeling uncomfortable.

Eric bit his lip. "I just—"

"Just what?"  
Eric ran his hands through his hair again, looking up at the ceiling. "Ariel, this is going to be so hard."  
"_What's_ going to be so hard?" Ariel demanded, feeling dread tugging at her gut.

Eric sighed. "Ariel—I just think it would be best if we just—"

Ariel inhaled sharply. "Eric, would you stop your mumbling? I hate when you mumble. Just tell me what you need to _say_!"  
Eric looked her right in her eye. "I think it'd be best if we started seeing other people."  
Ariel's mouth fell open. "_What_?"  
Eric chuckled lightly. "What, Ariel, you didn't think we'd be together _forever_, did you?"  
Tears ran down Ariel's cheeks. "Eric….Eric…."  
"Ariel, people are staring…" Eric muttered, smiling and waving at one of his friends.  
"Who CARES?" Ariel exploded. "You _jerk_!"  
"Calm down." Eric hissed.

"You son of a—"

Eric pushed Ariel's hair out of her eyes. "We can still be friends."  
"_Friends?_" Ariel shrieked.

Eric nodded. "See, I think now is the right time to to tell you; I've already started seeing someone else."  
Ariel was too busy crying to ask who, but Eric told her anyway. "Vanessa Vasquez," he said. Ariel looked up, mascara running.

Eric shook his head. "She's been real nice, Ariel."  
"And what, I've been bad?" Ariel yelled. "I've been nothing but devoted to you!"  
"Jeez, Ariel," said Eric. "Give me a break."  
Ariel's mouth fell open again.

"I have to go have dinner with Vanessa in an hour," Eric told her. "I have to pick up a rental tuxedo and buy some new shoes and everything."  
"New shoes?" Ariel sobbed. "You never did that for me!"  
"Why are things always about you?" Eric asked her, frustrated.

Ariel pressed up against the wall. "Why? Why, why, why, _why_?"

"Listen," Eric enunciated slowly. "I am sick and tired of life with you."  
"But…but we had a—"

"A what?" Eric almost roared. "A _spark_? We had _it_? Something _special_? Ariel, maybe we did. But it faded away, whatever it was."  
"So…." Ariel whispered. "You're breaking up with me?"  
Eric shrugged. "Yeah. I hope we can still be friends and whatever?"  
Ariel glared at him. "You make me sick, you know that? Get out of my sight."  
Eric shook his head and began to walk away.

"How long were you seeing her before you broke up with me?" Ariel yelled.

"A week." He called over his shoulder.

"You're _sick_, you asshole, _sick_!" Ariel screamed.

But her words bounced off his protective armor like mere arrows. They meant nothing to him.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Ariel mopped floors at Dinitia's Dance Studio all afternoon, earning twenty crisp dollars going towards Arista's apartment fund.

After the dance studio mopping, Ariel collected cans off the streets till the sky glowed pink and orange. She turned the cans in for about five dollars, and then went to her next job, as a waittress at a little diner called the Benbow.

She marched in, tied on the customary apron, and waited on people till nighttime. The huge pile of homework in her backpack haunted her, thoughts of Eric haunted her, and she cried in the bathroom while she was on break.

She was like a ghost gliding through every duty thrown aboard her.

Halfway through waiting, her cell phone rang. "Hello?" Ariel asked weakly.

It was Aquata. "What would you say," she asked. "If you knew Daddy was going to Rome tomorrow for a business trip?"  
Ariel blinked. "I'd say okay. Daddy always goes on business trips."  
"Yeah…but while he's away , we're gonna throw a party."  
Ariel didn't smile. "I'm not in the mood for a party."  
"Why?"  
Ariel whimpered. "Eric broke up with me."  
Aquata gasped. "OMG! You poor thing!"

Ariel sniffled.

Aquata laughed. "But you don't expect us to call off the party, right, Ariel?"  
Ariel closed her eyes. "No, Aqua, of course not."  
Aquata laughed again. "Great! It's gonna be the smashingest party that ever hit NYC. And that's saying something." Then she hung up the phone.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

_I never thought good wealthy girls with high standards like Wendy Darling would stoop so low as to talk to me._

_-Peter_

Peter just kept staring at Wendy.

She had caught him reading the note!

"Th-this isn't my locker," he stammered, letting the note fly to the ground.

"It isn't?" Wendy asked, raising her eyebrows. "You seemed to know the combination just fine. And you seemed to be enjoying reading your…sorry, _their_…personal stuff."  
Peter kicked the note away.

Wendy smiled. "Is it yours, Peter?"  
Peter glanced away.

"I like you, Peter," said Wendy. Her voice hitched. "But—I'm not ready for a relationship right now. I hope we can be friends."  
Peter looked at her, almost horrified. He never expected it to go this way.

"_Really good_ friends," Wendy corrected.

Peter scratched the back of his head. "Uh, great," he said. His eyes felt wet.

Wendy looked down at her shoes. "Thanks for the note. It was beautiful."  
Peter didn't reply.

Wendy turned and began walking away.

Peter felt sadness and rage welling up inside him. He grabbed his stuff, ran down the hallway and out of the exit. A hot pink Convertible was parked at the curb, and a gorgeous sexy blonde girl was sitting in the passenger side front seat, while a girl with a black ponytail decked out with gleaming beads was driving and chewing gum at the same time.

"Hey, Ginger boy!" she called. "Yoo-hoo!"  
_Yoo-hoo_? Peter turned around. The blonde was waving to him. She stuck out a French manicured hand through the window. Peter shook it warily.

"I'm Andrina." The girl smiled. "You're so cute."  
Peter managed a weak smile. He had loved Wendy, wasted time on her. And when he finally got the courage to admit it to her through a note, she had rejected him.

She said she wasn't _ready_, Peter. She will be. Later. Get a grip.

"What's your name?" Andrina was asking.

"Peter."  
"Cuuuute," Andrina sang. "Pe-ter, you're coming to my party."  
"Eh-xcuse me," said the black haired girl next to her. "_Our_ party, Andrina."

Andrina rolled her eyes. "Sure, Adella," she said. She grinned at Peter. "Care to come?"  
"When is it?" Peter asked. He wanted to escape his troubles. Maybe he could bring Cindy too.

"Tomorrow night. The address is on the invite." Andrina handed him a cream colored envelope with gold edging. Peter tore it open to reveal heavy white cardstock inside with cursive print.

**Come to a Smash Par-tay! **

**75 Ocean View Avenue**

**Bring as many friends as you want.**

**We will be serving refreshments**

**Calling all party people!**

**-The Triton Girls**

"Who are the Triton girls?" Peter asked Andrina. "Are they some kind of band?"  
Andrina looked at her sister Adella for a second, and they burst out laughing.  
"Did you _hear him_?" Andrina shrieked. "Peter, honey, _we're_ the Triton girls. Ever heard of our dad? He owns all those Save The Environment corporations and all the YMCAs across the United States of America. The swimmer girls?"  
Peter pretended he did and nodded.  
Andrina smirked and smiled. "So, you're coming, right?"  
"Sure. I can bring people, right?"  
Andrina slid back into the seat. "It says so on the card."  
"Okay," Peter said.

"Okay," Andrina echoed. "See you tomorrow night, Peter."  
"Wait!" Peter yelled. "Is it formal?"  
"Wear whatever the hell you want!" Andrina yelled back. "Shorts, t-shirts, those tuxedo things, come naked if that's what you want. Party world, Peter."  
Peter nodded. "Okay. Bye."  
"Laaaaaaaater!" Andrina sang as Adella drove the car off into the distance.

Peter grinned. He had a party to go to. 


	6. The Waiter and The Heist

**Thanks you guys, all who reviewed. I've been trying to make each chapter pretty interesting. Enjoy this chapter! I'm having TONS of FUN writing this!**

_She just started working here. She's gorgeous. But that's my problem. _

_-Jim_

Jim continued to watch the redhead waittress talk on the phone.

" 'Kay," she said, ending the conversation abruptly and turning off her iPhone with its purple and green striped silicon case.

Jim walked up to her. "Want something to drink?"  
The redhead looked up. "What did you say?"

Jim shrugged. "You been here a couple hours, want something to drink?"  
The redhead blinked. "Uh, okay."  
Jim led her into the back kitchen. "Lemonade? Milk? Juice?"  
"Just—water," Redhead said, sitting down on a chair Jim directed her to.  
Jim poured her a glass of icy water, and Redhead gulped it down.

"You're new, right?" Jim asked. "You never worked here before today."  
"I applied for the job last week, as a waittress," Redhead said with a tired smile. "I'm Ariel, by the way. Ariel Triton."  
"Ariel _Triton_?" Jim raised his eyebrows. "Your dad? The YMCA sponsor? The Save-The-Environment crap—"

Ariel grinned "Exactly."  
Jim grinned back. "I always thought you guys were those rich-ass swim-race winning girls. Emphasis on _rich_."  
"What's your point?" Ariel demanded.

Jim shrugged. "Eh, I never thought I'd find one of the Triton girls working in a drafty diner like the Benbow."  
"We need the extra money."  
Jim barked out a laugh. "Extra _money_?"  
Ariel sighed. "You wouldn't understand. Girl stuff."  
Jim shrugged again, poured himself a glass of juice and grabbed a tray of dirty dishes to wash.

"What's your name again?" Ariel asked, putting her glass in the sink.

"Jim."  
Ariel smiled at him, and then a tiny alarm on her cell phone rang. She looked down. Then she gasped. "I gotta go. Homework."  
Jim nodded. "Sure. Grab your paycheck from my mom up front."  
Ariel smiled. "Okay." A Facetime request came in. From Alana. Ariel leaned against the door and pressed ANSWER.

"Ariel?" Alana grinned and waved.

"Calm down," Ariel frowned. "I'm on my way home."  
She realized, self-consciously, that Jim was watching over her shoulder. Ariel reached over and flirtatiously smacked his shoulder. "Jim, go away!"

Jim held up his hands and began to back off, when suddenly, Alana let out a squeal of delight. "Hey, wait!" she called. "Who are you?"  
Jim glanced down into the screen. "Ariel's _workmate_. Jim."

Alana giggled. "Well, Ariel, aren't you lucky. Money _and _Mr. Gorgeous."  
Jim ran a hand through his hair. "Me?"  
Alana laughed. "Do _you_ see another Mr. Gorgeous?"  
Jim smiled at her.

"Alana, enough!" Ariel shrilled. "I'm coming home, okay? Stop flirting!"

Alana cackled. "Girrrrrrl, jealous much?" When Ariel just continued to glare at Alana, Alana shrugged. "He's yours, Ariel. I don't see him every day at work anyway. Keep your clothes on."  
Ariel gasped, and Jim choked back a laugh.

Ariel reached for the END button.

"Hold up!" Alana raised her hands. "Just wanted to say that the house will be empty when you get home. Daddy will be home late, and we're all going shopping. But not Arista. She's sick. We would have taken you, but you have work."  
"All good," Ariel said weakly.

"By the way," Alana lowered her voice to a whisper. "Invite Sexy Waiter to our party."  
Ariel gasped. "No! I only just met him today!"

Alana smiled. "Who cares? If you don't want him, _I'll _take him. He's _hawt_!"

Ariel rolled her eyes. "You're such a sl—"

"Don't say it," Alana warned. "Ciao, Ariel!"  
The Facetime call ended.

Ariel just stood there, considering Alana's request. Then she shook her head and started walking out the door. "Bye, Jim," she called.

"Bye."  
She collected her paycheck from Sarah Hawkins and started walking out the door, but she stopped.

As Jim continued washing dishes, he heard a noise by the door. He turned. "Ariel? What's wrong?"  
Ariel smiled timidly. "Would you like to come to a party tomorrow?" 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

_Peter's ideas are very bright and fun for him, but I always find a crack in his plans. If he only listened, he wouldn't have gotten arrested a few days later. _

_-Cindy_

"That's your plan?" Cindy was doubtful as she stared at Peter.

Peter nodded. "I saw that big jewel thingy around Princess Kida's neck at the assembly at school. I was thinking—how much money could that thing get us? I could buy us both a first-class college education, get us both dorm rooms for several years, buy you nice clothes, get us both away from Lady Tremaine."  
Cindy sighed. "Peter, your plan is nice, but stealing is wrong. And even if you _do_ steal, how are you gonna manage that? The crystal is around the Princess's neck."  
Peter smiled. "I have my ways. And what I'm going to do first is buy you a gorgeous dress for the party."  
Cindy blinked. "Uh, what party?"  
"The party tomorrow night. At the Triton place. Andrina Triton invited me."  
Cindy was in total disbelief. "Andrina _Triton_ invited you to a party? Peter, Triton's daughters are the most flirty, sexpot low-life girls ever!"

Peter narrowed his eyes. "Cindy, how would you know? You've practically been a prison in here for your whole life!"

He regretted his words as soon as had spoken them.

Cindy looked at him, stunned. "Peter, how could you say that to me?"  
Peter looked down guiltily. "I'm sorry. That didn't come out like I meant it to."  
Cindy began to cry. "Sometimes I'm so tired of life, you know? Like, I miss my dad and mum, and freedom, and going to school, and not frickin' scrubbing the floors until my damn fingers are bleeding!"  
Tears streamed down Cindy's face.

Finding no other words inside him, Peter pulled Cindy close to him and just let her cry as he stroked her hair.

He vowed he'd make things better.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

The moon gleamed above, and Peter crept stealthily forward towards Baker Guesthouse, run by Eudora Baker and her daughter, Tiana.

It was a little cottage, made of bricks, ivy wrapped around the pillars. The windows were glass and easily breakable with a rock.

Peter stashed a rock in his pocket, adjusted the black cotton ski mask over his face, and crept towards the ivory trellis. He climbed carefully. He peeked through each window, and spotted Princess Kida.

Dressed in just a light blue bra thing and what looked like the tiniest shorts in history, wrapped in a blanket, Kida was asleep.

Peter pressed his fingers around the rock. Did he dare to do this? Then he smacked the rock into the window.

No alarms sounded. No cop cars screamed their ways down the streets. Peter let out a breath and climbed in through the window, knocking over a little wooden chair.

He gasped. "Crap!"  
Kida stirred, but didn't wake.

Peter leaned forward, shifted the green blanket backwards so he could see her front.

The Crystal glowed and hung around her neck, and Peter could smell fresh soap on her and see into her cleavage.

Forcing himself not to look, Peter pulled the knife away from his belt and severed the silky gray cord that fastened the Crystal to Kida's neck.

The crystal fell into his hands, and Peter stuffed it into his pockets.

Heart pounding hard, he jumped back out through the window and down the street, silent as a shadow.

After all, he had gotten what he wanted.


	7. Pigeon and Kida's Fading Life

_I hope no one finds out. I'll be in a boatload of crap if anyone knows I've been pawning illegal jewels with Pan. _

_-Flynn_

"You want to sell the jewel that belonged to the princess?" Flynn demanded incredulously to the smaller boy with a messy mane of red hair.

Peter nodded.

Flynn shrugged. "I don't know, Pan. It seems kind of dangerous to me."  
Peter shook his head. "Naw, man. It's gonna be fine. You said you know that guy that pawns. We just need to play hooky from school tomorrow before the Triton girls' party, and then get a price on the crystal. I'll give you ten percent of the profit."  
Flynn scratched his chin. "Twenty percent."  
Peter gritted his teeth. "Fifteen—or the deal's off. I'll find some other delinquent to help me."  
Flynn Rider glared. "Deal, Pan." 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

"This is it?" Peter asked, looking up at the NYC bar. The Snuggly Duckling. "Looks like a ripoff to me?"  
"Watch it," Flynn warned. "The biggest cussmouths and criminals come to drink here. You better be respectful of them and this joint. It's a good place."  
"Cussmouths and criminals?"  
Flynn chuckled. "My kind of crowd."  
Peter jutted his chin at the entrance. "How am I gonna get in? I'm a sophomore, remember?"  
Flynn smiled. "Who said we were using the front entrance? Pigeon lives in the back."  
Peter's eyes widened. "Pigeon?"  
Flynn marched confidently around to the back of the run-down bar. "Pigeon!" he yelled.

Peter followed timidly, the guilty jewel banging around in his pocket.

"Pigeon!" Flynn yelled again.

"Keep your damn mouth shut, boy, the whole neighborhood can hear you mouth off!" snarled a small wrinkled man as he rose out of a refrigerator box.

"Are you homeless?" Asked Peter, wrinkling his nose.

"So what if I am?" whispered Pigeon. "You gonna do something 'bout it, rich boy?"  
"Shut up, Pan," Flynn snapped. He turned to Pigeon. "Pigeon, this boy wants to have you price a jewel."  
"Well," said Pigeon, examining the Crystal as Peter produced it out of his pocket. "Where did a little clucker like you get a big thing like that?"  
Peter pulled the jewel away as Pigeon reached for it. "I—"

Flynn smirked. "He stole it, Pigeon."  
Pigeon reached for the Crystal, and this time, Peter didn't yank it out of his hands.

Flynn smiled. "He's as charming a thief as me. After all, who doesn't love me?"

Pigeon grunted and shook his head. "Someday your charms will land you in a windowless jail cell, Rider."

Flynn chuckled. "I'm too slick to ever get caught."  
"Pride comes before a fall," predicted Pigeon.

Peter cut into the conversation. "Why does Flynn call you Pigeon?"  
Pigeon looked up while fingering the crystal. "Pigeons are the official bird of New York, son."  
Peter raised his eyebrows. "So?"  
Pigeon leaned forward. "I'm everything that makes New York a swashbuckling light-flashing survival-of-the-fittest-city. I make a fortune out of pawning, drug dealing, and bartending. And look at me. I'm homeless too. There's no other person in this whole damn world that's more cut out for New York than me. That's why I'm a Pigeon; a hardcore bird in this mangy world."  
Peter nodded approvingly. "That's cool."  
Pigeon turned to Flynn. "How's your romance life coming along, Rider?"  
Flynn shrugged. "The whole thing with Rapunzel isn't really working out. I mean, she's going all free-hearted on me. Taking monthly trips into the desert to paint, traveling to Costa Rica, always visiting her parents back in Corona. No time for me."  
Pigeon weighed the jewel. "Anyone special? Besides Rapunzel?"  
Flynn shifted his weight uneasily. "Well. There's this girl. I think she's pretty. She's really sassy, preppy, smart. And—yeah."  
"Who is she?" Peter demanded. "Does she go to Disney High?"  
"She's younger than me," Flynn confessed. "She's a freshman. Her name is Dani Spark. Know her?"

Peter tilted his head. "Um."  
"She's got blonde hair, bangs. Gray eyes," Flynn prompted.

Peter waited for a second, and then grinned. "Riiiiight. I get it. Does she even know you exist?"  
Flynn ran his hands through his hair. "I doubt it. I mean, she's one of those girls that love to sit and read Dramione fanfictions for hours, crying over when Hermione gets cancer and Draco is trying to save her life and all that crap."  
Peter shook his head. "Man."  
"I saw her reading a fanfic on her iPod, and I tried to be interested but I—Pan, I'm scared to talk to her."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "The Great Flynn Rider? Afraid to speak to a freshmen girl?"

Flynn averted his eyes.

Pigeon interrupted. "I can put a few thousand dollars on this jewel. It's worth quite a bit."  
Peter grinned. "Awesome! Can I do the trade now?"  
Pigeon glared. "Of course not, you ninny! Money trades are never done out in the open, when daylight is still shining! Come back tomorrow night."  
"We have a party tomorrow night," Flynn reminded Peter.

"What he said," Peter snapped. "It's urgent. I can't miss it."  
"Come afterward," Pigeon told him. "If you want your cash, that is. Hang onto the Crystal until then. If you change your mind, don't bother coming. I don't take kindly to boys that change their minds."  
"Oh, I won't," said Peter, and him and Flynn vanished into the maze of city streets.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

_I woke up and I knew I was dying already. _

_-Kida_

The Crystal.

It's gone!

Kida felt her life slipping away.

"What should we do?" King asked her in panicked Atlantian.

"Arrest every juvenile delinquent at the high school!" Kida yelled. "Go! Whatever the cost…I want my Crystal back! And heaven help them if I don't get it!" 


	8. Shopping and Dressing

**Sorry, there is actually not a lot of drama in this chapter. Every chapter is supposed to have a bit of drama, like a breakup or a big move-along in the plotline, but I've been sick. I'm better now, but I wrote this one day when I was in bed and tired and this was all I could come up with. It's Party Day, and soon the tension will really start to kick in. So stay tuned! School starts agains soon so I will have to devote time to that. But don't worry; I'll update fast; you won't have to wait. **

**Okay, next bit of news. And unfortunately, folks, it's bad news. SOPA, The Stop Online Piracy Act, is trying to take down! And other fanfiction sites as well! We can't lose our beloved fanfiction! We need to hold onto it! I'll be giving you more information when I get some; unfortunately, the website I was given to sign the Save the Website Petition was wrong, since I cannot find the actual petition. So, I'll update you guys! We need to save !**

**Okay, so on that happy note. I'll just reply to comments and we'll get into this chapter. I'll be posting the next one TODAY ITSELF. **

**REPLY TO REVIEWS: **

**AdrianaScalese: Thx: Ariel is my favorite Disney princess too. Well—I can't sing, but I just love her rebelliousness and how her hair is red. Red hair is so cool! **

**Tulipgirl: Gurrrrrrrl, who DOESN'T know what Dramione is? I like Dramione too! Dani Spark is NOT a Disney character. She is my own character, based loosely off my cousin. **

**GRYFFINDORGAL: Yes. Dramione! I read some Dramione too. My friends and cousin have recently recommended some really good ones. So I've been reading it; and loving it! **

**DramioneAddict: I actually included your line: "the best thing thought up from mankind," in this chapter. I liked that! Flynn's crush, Dani Spark, is my own character, and not in Disney or in anything else. **

**CrystalThiefFan: Thanks, thanks, thanks, hon! Sure, as long as Dani Spark is alive, the Dramione fire will continue to shine in this fanfic; for realistic and coolness purposes. Lol. **

**PillowHug: (Your pen name is toooo cute). Thank you! **

**Me: Yeah, Dramione makes it realistic. And awesome! I like reading Dramione. Yes, there is, in fact, a fanfiction like that! It's about Hermione getting cancer and Draco….well…go read it! Right now, go! It's called 11 Things. Thank you; glad I'm your favorite; thanks for making my day. –wiping a tear from my eye.—**

**SweetStuff: OMG, girl! You are like everywhere! And sooo sweet. Of COURSE I know what Dramione is! Practically everyone babbles about it everywhere! Thanks for the support!**

**ScoobyDoo: Never heard of it? Well, it's a crossover between Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger from the book/movie Harry Potter. **

**Gods Warrior Pri: She IS. I was reading over my chapter, proofreading, and I had a feeling I made Lady Tremaine tooo annoying to be REAL! And poor Cindy. That's why I had Peter help and stand up for her. **

**Marieeeeeee: AAAAAAAAAAHHHH! THANK YOU! You left an AMAZING comment. Luv u x10! Yes, exactly. Hashtag drama. My exact thoughts. Yes, the plot is soon arising. **

**Like silver smoke in the night. (God, that was corny. I'm sorry.)**

**ReginaGeorge: Mean Girls fan much? I love that movie! And especially our spiteful, evil, witchy queen bee Regina George! I am updating! And your review was just the kick in the….**_**butt**_**…I needed to update this new chapter. **

**NotStupid: Thanks! That's what I thought, too.**

**ALL RIGHTS GO TO DISNEY! I OWN NOTHING BUT THE CHARACTER DANI SPARK! **

_My thoughts on Party Day: shopping, shopping, shopping, and shopping. _

_Oh, and looking hot. Can't forget that. _

_-Andrina _

"How do I look?" demanded Alana, ducking out of the cubicle at the Paris Styles, one of the hottest teen dress stores in New York.

Andrina made a face. " Eeeew, Alana, black is _so_ not your color!"  
Alana stuck out her lower lip. "I thought I looked cute. It looked that way in the mirror."  
"That's one cracked mirror," howled Attina.

"Why don't we all just shop at Macy's?" Andrina asked sarcastically. "Go try on a new dress! One that's more your color."  
One thing Andrina knew, it was signature color. She knew they all had signature colors they had made up in middle school; the colors that complimented them perfectly and just never went wrong on them.

The girls were skipping school just to go shopping for the hawtest outfits from Paris Styles. Andrina was glad Triton was in Rome. Just the opportunity for a par-tay!

Alana smoothed her black hair back. "Should I go with purple?"  
"Is Paris Styles the hottest store here? Hell, yes!" screamed Aquata, laughing.  
Alana grinned and disappeared behind the curtain.

Arista appeared, wearing a curve-hugging supershort scarlet minidress. There was practically no top, just a sort of band across her boobs. Andrina cocked her head. "Mmmm."  
Arista raised her pale eyebrows. "What?"  
Andrina shrugged and waved her ringed fingers. "Nah, nothing. I mean—"

Attina bit her lip and looked at Andrina, who twirled her silver radio ring around her fingers.

"Girl, spit it out!" Arista snapped.

"Your stomach," Andrina managed. "It's not really _flat_ anymore, is it?"  
Arista's face fell. Out of the corner of her eye, Andrina saw Ariel's mouth widen into an O shape. Why the hell was everyone acting so weird? She was _correcting _Arista.

Arista placed her hands protectively over her tummy.

"Some exercise? Salad for lunch?" Andrina threw out some more suggestions. Arista began to gnaw on her lip. Her eyes were getting huge and wet. Oh God.

Ariel stood up. "_Enough_, Andrina!" she snapped. "God, you're such a perfectionist. I think Arista looks gorgeous."  
"No," Arista said, and her voice cracked. "I'm gonna go return the dress. And I'm not coming to the party."  
Andrina raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Don't be such a drama queen, Arista."  
Arista balled up her hands. "_No, _I'm not. I have my reasons."  
Adella crossed her arms. "Let's hear them, then!"  
"Shut _up_!" yelled Ariel. "OMG, you guys are so stupid! Leave Arista alone! She has her reasons, okay? Just trust me! Now stop nagging her about her stomach and buy some dresses! And for heavens' sake, Adella, don't just stand there in your frickin' bra and try and twirl your hair! It's _not cool_!"  
Adella blinked.

Alana emerged from the curtains. "How's this dress?"  
It was a tiny purple thing with lace at the top.

All the Triton girls were staring at a teary-eyed Arista and a furious Ariel. Andrina was angry. How _dare_ Ariel try and ruin this shopping expedition at Paris Styles? How dare she even make a scene? How dare she try and ruin the pre-party mood she was trying to create in the sisters?

"Guys? My dress?" Alana prompted.

"Great," said Attina.

"Awesome," murmured Aquata.

"Genius," replied Adella.

"It's perfect," said Andrina, still glaring at Ariel.

Ariel snatched Arista's arm. "Come on, Arista," she said.

"Ariel!" called Alana. "You still haven't bought a dress!"

"Buy one for me!" Ariel said snarkily over her shoulder. She pulled out a stack of credit cards bound together with rubber bands and threw it to Alana.  
"It'll be a good one," Alana grinned at Ariel's back and turned to the other girls. "After all, she's got a very sexy friend coming."  
Andrina crossed her arms over her chest. "Puh-lease. _Ariel_? Snag a _boy_? Like, seriously? What's his name?"  
Alana turned around to the curtains to take off her dress. "Jim." 

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

_I was invited to a party. It was surprising, but I didn't even know if I could go. After all, for my dad, it's illegal for me to have fun. _

_-Wendy_

"Anything special you have in mind?" Wendy's best friend, Dani Spark, asked, scrolling down her iPhone, reading a Dramione fanfiction.

Wendy shrugged. "Just a simple dress. After all, I was given an invite in the school parking lot yesterday."  
Dani shrugged. "Same."  
Wendy held out a one strap light blue dress. "Is it good?"  
"Gorgeous," Dani replied, standing up, wearing a glittery tube dress. "It's not superfancy, it's just a high school party. We're good to go, Wendy."  
As Dani and Wendy started downstairs, John blocked the way.  
"Er," he said, looking at the two girls. "Wendy, if I may ask, where are you going?"  
Wendy ran a hand through her light brown hair. "Party."  
John raised his eyebrows. "What a surprise. Usually you're such a homebody."  
Dani giggled.

"Not helping," Wendy snapped.

"Sorry," Dani apologized. She looked at John. "It's not for very long. I promise. I'll bring her home before her curfew. What's her curfew?"  
"Wendy's curfew is 10," said John importantly. "But she hasn't even asked Father yet. I'd expect he'd be mad."  
"Where is he?" Dani wanted to know.

"Out," John said mysteriously. "At a meeting."  
Wendy bit her lip. She had to choose. To her father, meetings were nothing more than talking with friends at a bar and drinking till he came home staggering. She wanted to attend the party. Just let loose for one night and not be Michael and John's mother. And the other part of her wanted to stay home and protect her brothers from her father.

"Oh," said Dani, bored. "A meeting. So he'll be home soon?"  
"I'd expect so," John said, still watching Wendy.

Dani removed her phone and started reading Dramione again.

"Dani, stop reading that stuff for just a second and help me think!" Wendy hissed. "What do you find in that anyway? Is it honestly even that good?"  
Dani raised her eyebrows. "Dramione is the best thing thought up from mankind! It's amazing! There are great stories here, and you'd never know them till you tried!"  
Wendy made a face.

Dani slipped the phone into her purse. "I'm begging you, try once! You'll love, I swear!"  
"This Tom Felton obsession of yours, I swear," said Wendy, running her hands through her hair and staring at a befuddled John.

"Ah, Harry Potter!" John exclaimed. "Favorite books of mine, I must say! And Rita Skeeter's amazing journalistic skills continue to impress me. Even though she is usually against our main protagonists."  
"John, please." Wendy shook her head. John would turn the merest conversation-starter into a full-out literary discussion.

"Tom Felton is _soooo_ cute, though," Dani Spark said, giggling. "He can sing. Did you know that? Did I show you the vid—"

"Spare me, Dani," said Wendy. "And, _yes_, you did. God, the one about the planes? With the lady in the waiting room?"

"It's not about a plane," said Dani strictly. "And _yes_. So I _did_ show you."

"It's amazing," said Wendy dryly.

"Don't make fun of it ," said Dani, just as dryly.

"Of course," Wendy said through her teeth. "There was no reason to—except the fact that he sucked."  
"What?!" Dani gasped.

"God," said Wendy, her eyes traveling to the ceiling.

She looked at John. She remembered her dad's rages from two nights ago. What if someone got hurt this time?

"Come _on_, Wendy," said Dani. "Nobody wants to be cooped up in here forever."

Wendy looked at her for a long time.

"Fine," she finally said, drawing out a breath. "Give me one second. Start your car."  
Wendy walked John up the stairs and to his room. "Promise me if you hear the door opening you'll come check who it is; me or Daddy, and if its Daddy, take care that nothing happens to either you or Michael."  
John understood the hidden meaning behind Wendy's words. "You mean Father's not at a meeting? He's out…drinking?"  
Wendy grimaced. "Please, John, don't mention it in front of him, okay? Lock your doors."  
"What if he gets crazy?" John had begun to wheeze.

"If I'm not home and he's getting too crazy, things are out of hand, call me." Said Wendy bravely. "I'll come home."  
John nodded his consent. "Remember to come home before 10, Wendy."  
Just before she left for the party, Wendy cursied. "Yes, sir." 

**In the next chapter, I'm plotting for the real tension and drama and plot to begin! **

**So stay TUNED! **


	9. Slow Dancing and Framing Jim

_This party was totally cool, just like every other party the Triton Girls ever threw. But it was the preamble to the most terrifying part of my life. _

_-Jim_

Jim Hawkins walked in to blaring music and kids walking around consuming large portions of alcohol.

"Welcome, Sexy Waiter," came a voice. Alana smiled and waved at him.

He waved back, remembering her from the Facetime call at the Benbow. Alana crept forward, bits at a time. She was all breasts, Jim saw. She was wearing a barely-there white dress, her black hair waving behind her.  
"Vodka?" She asked coyly. "Do you drink?"  
Jim had to make a split-second decision. "Nah. What else you got?"  
"Anything you want, Sexy."  
"Uh," Jim coughed. "I actually got a name."  
Alana laughed. "I know. Jim, right?"  
Jim nodded.

Alana took his hand and led him to a seat. Jim felt a little uncomfortable, but he couldn't say no to her so he sat down. Alana glanced around. "Hey, Char!" she called. "Char! Darling, come here for a second!"  
A guy in a soccer jersey and cleats came over. "What, Alana?" he asked, distractedly.

"Char, this is Jim."  
Char raised his eyebrows. " 'Sup, man. You her new plaything?"  
Alana laughed again. Jim shook his head. "Naw, man. We're just friends."  
Char nodded. "You need something, 'Lana?"  
Alana nodded. "Could you fetch Jim and me a drink? Please?" Something about her tone implied no refusals, so Char hurried to fetch them both a raspberry punch drink.

Meanwhile, Alana was talking Jim up, and touching his body. He'd rather she not go there, since he was in no mood to get into any relationship now. Alana pinched his shirt. "Nice fabric. Where'd you get it?"  
Jim snorted. "It was a gift."

Alana frowned. "From a girlfriend, I suppose."  
Jim snorted again. "My uncle. Robert."  
"Uncle Robert made a nice choice," Alana purred. "It's so….._fetch _on you."  
_Fetch_?

"Drinks," said Char gruffly, presenting them. "I'm done playing the maid, Alana."  
"Sure," Alana said, accepting the drinks. "Thanks, Charming."  
Jim and Alana drank in silence. Finally, Jim broke it. "Where's Ariel?"

He saw Alana stick out her lower lip. "Ariel? I'm sure she's around here somewhere….oh, but Jim, don't you want to spend time with _me_?"  
Jim nodded. "Yeah, of course. But I was wondering if I could speak with Ariel. My mom was offering a pay raise….and employees get some kind of discount…" This was all a made-up lie of course, but Jim couldn't wait to escape man-hungry Alana.

Finally, Alana frowned. "Come on. I'll show you where Ariel is. That is, if you _really _want to leave this alone time we have."  
"I have to tell her."  
Glowering, Alana rose, taking Jim's hand, and leading him.

Jim felt like high school royalty as guys stared approvingly at their entwined hands and girls looked enviously at Alana.

"Ariel!" Alana roared.

Ariel turned. She had been speaking to a girl with light brown hair, accompanied by another girl with blonde hair and bangs and gray eyes. "Jim!" she said with a smile.

Jim gave her his rare half-smiles.

Alana didn't seem happy. "Ariel, he wanted to discuss something _work-related _with you," she said.

"Why don't you go catch a man in your net," Ariel said with a cocky tilt of her head. "While I talk to Jim?"  
Alana narrowed her eyes even more.

"Go!" Ariel said, more firmly now.

Alana turned and went.

Ariel gestured at the two girls. She pointed at the blonde one first. "Jim, this is Dani Spark, my friend. Dani's gonna be a writer as soon as she's graduated from Disney High. She writes fanfiction." Ariel's eyes lit up. "Ohhh, Jim, you should read her writing. It's great!"  
Jim raised his eyebrows approvingly. "Writer, huh? What kind of fanfiction d'ya write, Dani?"  
"Dramione," Dani said confidently. "I'm practicing to write scripts and novels in the future."  
Jim grinned. "Must be a hell of a story to make Ariel like it."

Dani smiled. "She's a tough nut. It took a lot of convincing. You should read it."  
Jim didn't want to get looped into this, but he told her he'd check out her writing. "Just…tell me your pen name later, okay?" Jim said. He turned back to Ariel.

"Oh, Jim!" gasped Ariel. "I forgot; this is my _other_ friend, Wendy Darling."  
Jim turned and recognized the girl Gaston was bullying. He hadn't really caught her name; though she _had_ told him, and he realized this was the girl. "Wendy."  
Wendy looked at him over her cute pug nose. "Yeah."  
Jim smiled. "Nice to see you here."  
"You guys know each other?" Ariel wanted to know.

"Hell," said Jim with a cheeky grin. "We go way back."  
"Waaaaaaaay back," corrected Wendy.

Dani and Ariel looked at each other and smiled. "Well," said Ariel. "Dani wants to make a song request for the DJ. We'll be right back; I have to introduce her."  
Wendy looked at Jim. She was looking over his head; trying to escape him and his cuteness; the powerful look in his eyes, his I'm-so-unbelievably-popular-and-good-looking smirk on his face.

She spotted Peter across the room, and suddenly had an urge to speak to him.

"What, you avoidin' me?" Jim asked.

"No!" Wendy gasped, awkwardly. "I just—I thought I saw someone—"

"You're stuttering," Jim said, laughing.

"And you're stupid," Wendy retorted. Her cheeks flamed. It was a horrible comeback; probably the worst ever. She remembered where she had last heard it; from Michael, talking back to a teacher.

Jim laughed again. "Okay, ouch."  
"No need to mock me." Wendy felt exhausted, but she smiled at Jim anyway.

"So you have a smile." Jim raised his eyebrows and smirked yet again. "It didn't look like you had one; it looked like you were full of lemon juice and constant ungratefulness."  
Wendy gasped. "I happen to be really cheerful."  
Jim shrugged. "You just chose to never show it to me?"  
Wendy slapped her palm to her forehead. "Really, Jim. I didn't even know you until a few days ago!"  
Jim shoved his hands in his pockets. "I dunno. Maybe I'm just being dumb?"  
"You _are_," Wendy said, giggling.

"Thanks for letting me know," Jim pretended to look clueless and go cross-eyed. Wendy smacked his arm.  
Suddenly, Wendy spotted Peter making his way through the crowd towards Wendy. Wendy looked at Peter, feeling like she wanted to speak to him. Peter was almost there.

Suddenly, a slow song came through the speakers. _Because You Love Me. _By Celine Dion.

"Grab whoever's next to you!" yelled Tarzan Mangals, the DJ. "For a slow dance of love!"  
Behind the wall, Wendy saw Dani stick out her tongue.

Wendy looked at Peter, who grinned and started forward. A blush began to creep up Wendy's pale cheeks.

Suddenly, Jim stepped forward. "Before Alana Triton comes back," he said seriously. "Wendy, you wanna dance with me?"  
Wendy blinked. "Uh…." She looked at Peter. He was looking confused now, back and forth.

Jim seemed conveniently not to notice.

"Sure," Wendy whispered, taking Jim's hand. "I'm not sure how to..dance."  
Jim shrugged. "Me neither. We'll improvise, okay?"  
Wendy laughed. "Sure, why not?" She looked seriously at Jim. She wanted to make sure it was Ariel he was after, and not her. Because Wendy thought of Jim as merely a friend, and liked _Peter_.

"Jim?"  
Jim looked at her. "Wha?"  
"You like Ariel, right?"  
Wendy gasped. _Was Jim Hawkins blushing? _She giggled. "Ohmigod. You _do_."  
"Don't tell her!" Jim exclaimed, grabbing Wendy's hands and squeezing them as they swayed on the dance floor.

Wendy pretended to lunge away towards Ariel, and Jim caught her around the waist, swinging her back. "Wendy, stop," Jim begged. "Please."

Wendy shook her head. "I won't. I promise."  
But what she unmistakably saw, was that coal-hard look in Peter's eyes as he watched their bantering. That unforgettable emotion. Wendy couldn't even place what it was.

Fear?

Anger?  
_Rage_.

Wendy swallowed and looked away. She couldn't bear to see that look. She was _afraid _of that look. But it was as clear as daylight:

Peter was going to do something horrible.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

_HE was dancing with MY Wendy. She's mine. And all of a sudden, I don't need that money anymore. I'm going to do something else._

_-Peter_

Peter was stomping his way to the door.

That kid dancing with his Wendy. Jim Hawkins. He couldn't get his mind off of it.

"Yo! Yo, Pan!" Flynn Rider walked towards Peter Pan.

Peter stopped on his rampage towards the door. "What?" He had even forgotten about Cindy, who was chatting with new friends and enjoying herself for once.

"Pigeon. Remember? Pawning the jewel."  
Peter looked at Flynn. He didn't want to sell it anymore. He was going to do something drastic with it, and he didn't want Flynn a part of his plans. "I lost it," said Peter cheerfully.

Flynn did a double take. "You _what_?"  
"I lost it."  
Flynn grabbed Peter by the shoulders. "How could you lose a crystal the size of a tennis ball?"  
Peter shook his head. "It must have fallen off."  
"Pan, what if the cops find it?!"

Peter shook his head. "I highly doubt they will."  
"How can you say that?"  
_Because the Crystal is still with me. _"I dropped it near Cold Forest. It probably rolled down into the bushes. No one will find it for a hundred years."  
"They better not, Pan," snarled Flynn, storming away.

Peter took a deep breath and began to run.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

It was raining, and the Benbow was silhouetted against the flashing lightning. It was time.

Peter pushed open the door, and strode in. "Hello?"  
A lady appeared. "Hi, what can I get you?"  
Peter shook his head. "I just want to use the bathroom, if that's okay with you."  
"It's upstairs," said the lady tiredly. "Second door to the left."  
"Hey, thanks," said Peter, clomping upstairs. Now he just had to locate Jim Hawkins' room. He had no trouble finding it; it had Jim painted on it with a DO NOT ENTER sign in neon yellow.

Peter grinned, pushed open the door and entered. He looked at the messy cluttered room. Clothes flung on the bed, books and paper askew, homework never finished, greasy pizza boxes, a mess of underwear by the closet, empty soda cans, the lightbulb by his desk still on.  
Peter thought his plan over. He was going to hide the Crystal. The cops would find it, and frame Jim Hawkins. Jim would go to juvenile hall, and Wendy would be Peter's.

Now where to hide it.

Peter floated through the room, checking out every nook and cranny. He ended up with wedging it in the stale place behind Jim's chest of drawers. He'd probably never check there.

Peter left the room, flushed the toilet and went downstairs.

He opened the door. "Thanks," he said to the lady who worked there.

The lady nodded. "No problem."  
With that, Peter Pan walked into the rain.


	10. The Cell Phone and the Ride Home

**Sorry for the LONG wait, guys. It's all the homework and other stuff that stands in my way. But I love the great reviews you guys send. Very encouraging. So here's the next chapter, with a bit of a Cinderella-ring to it, with a modern twist. **

**Reply to Comments: **

**Rihanna: Wow, girlfriend! Thanks so much! And thank you ALSO, for commenting on Midnight. It's totes fine—and thanks for advertising the Crystal Thief on Midnight! :P**

**Enough blabbering out of me; let the story begin! **

* * *

_I can't believe he left me. I have no idea what to do. Where to go. Not to Stepmother's. Not dressed like this. I want to cry, but I'm stronger than that. But what do I know. _

_-Cindy_

"Peter? Peter!" Cindy Tremaine had stormed around calling for Peter for the last ten minutes, given weird blank stares by partying high schoolers.

Cindy finally gave up and collapsed by the stairs. Day's over. It was fun to talk to people, meet new guys, and dance to actual music, not chirping birds outside her window.

Sometimes, when she heard the birds, Cindy just wanted to grab one in her fist, shake it hard, and scream, "Life isn't happy! So stop your damn chirping and leave! Migrate south or something!" Cindy sucked in air. She was defenitely messed up inside. Scarred by her stepmother. Internally bleeding.

"Hey, Cindy." A girl she had met that day sat next to her.

"Hi." Cindy squinted at the girl. Belle Barclay was one of those girls that was gorgeous, but didn't seem to care. She had a heart shaped face, with pink cheeks and high cheekbones. Eyes the light creamy color of chocolate milk. Long dark lashes like ferns framing a murky pond. Her lips were full and kissable and a pale rose. She wore her hair pulled back in a soft ponytail, an oversized t-shirt and denim shorts.

Cindy realized Belle Barclay was the kind of girl that made a good friend. "What are you doing, Belle?"  
Belle shrugged. "I brought 'To Kill A Mockingbird.' It's lovely. Have you read it?"  
Cindy smiled. "Can't say I have."  
Belle shrugged. "It's lovely."  
"Bookworm Belle!" A sexy girl with short black hair and ruby red lips smiled cruelly by the door with another girl with long blonde hair that appeared to be asleep.

Belle kept reading, not seeming to care.

"Belle, do you have a car?" Cindy asked, desperate.

Belle looked up. "Yes. Why?"  
"May I have a ride? I have to go to my stepmother's house tonight."  
Belle smiled. "Of course. I can give you a ride. When would you like to go?"  
Cindy bit her lip. "Is now a good time?"  
Belle nodded. "Of course. Whenever you like, Cindy."  
"Bookworm Belle, are you driving your new friend home? Why, to _read her a bedtime story_?" demanded the black haired girl, hysterically laughing. She elbowed the second girl, making her snort and wake up.

"_Stay awake, _Rose," hissed the black haired girl.

Rose rolled her eyes and let them flutter shut again.

"That poor girl—Rose—has narcolepsy," Belle informed Cindy. "_Snow White_ over there won't give her a rest."  
Snow White? What kind of name was that?

"She's thinks she's all that. She has Spanish heritage, I heard, and her father takes her shopping in Brazil every weekend. Her real name is Bianca Noir, but everyone just calls her Snow White."  
Snow stepped forward threatening. "I don't think you can crack out information like that to people, you loser," she warned. "I can make your life a living hell."  
"Excuse me, Snow," said Belle calmly. "You already are."

Cindy tilted her head.

Snow's eyes widened. "You! You, right next to the Bookworm! What's your name?"  
Cindy pointed to herself. "Me?"  
Snow smiled. "Totes. What's your name, hon?"  
Cindy didn't move, just gnawed on her lower lip. "Cindy."  
"You're sooo pretty, Cindy!" Snow smiled at her, widely. "And I love that dress on you! Where did you get it?"  
"It was a gift from my friend."  
Snow put her hands on her hips. "Mysterious, aren't we? Anyway, you want a ride? Ride with me. I have a snazzy car. It's totally hot. Would you like a ride?"

Cindy stepped back. "Belle already offered."  
Snow narrowed her eyes. "It _sounded_, Cindy, like you were sort of begging her. Besides, Belle's car isn't really all that anyway. Just a clunky Toyota. Yuck, right? Come with me."  
Cindy looked at Belle's open, honest, pretty face, and at Snow's mean-girl glammed-up face, and made a decision.

"I'm going with Belle."  
Snow narrowed her eyes for one second again, then returned to nice-girl mode. "That's fine. I was just offering. Hope we can meet again, Cindy?"  
Cindy nodded. "Yeah."

"I'll start the car," offered Belle, and exited the party quickly.

"Heyhey!" came a voice, and Adella Triton sidled up to Snow. "Hi, how are you, darling? It's been a while!"  
"It certainly has." Snow patted her hair, smiling because one of the Triton girls was speaking to her.

Cindy rumaged through bags to find her purse. _Oh_! She inwardly gasped. _My sweater. It's on a chair in the dining room_. Cindy whirled to go get it. Grabbing the shabby gray thing and hiding it under her silky pashmina, Cindy began weaving forward towards the door. She grabbed her purse and stepped onto the porch—

And tripped.

She screamed and fell forward, her cute minidress and made-up face heading straight for the damp grassy ground. Her entire life soaring for public humiliation—

Someone's hands caught her around the middle and yanked her up. "Ohmygod!" Cindy breathed, staring up at a handsome stranger.

"Whoa!" he exhaled sharply. "That was some fall! Not used to high heels?" He let her go, steadying her.

"No," Cindy admitted, trying to straighten her feet back into them while clutching her purse and sweater.

"Cool outfit," said the guy. He was wearing a soccer jersey and cleats.

Cindy looked down at her fancy minidress and expensive heels. "Thanks." If only he knew who she really was.

"Rich girl?" the guy grinned. "It sure looks it."  
Cindy didn't reply, and decided to go the safest route. "Yeah. That's me. Totally rich."  
The guy ran a hand through his dark hair. "Yeah? Where d'ya live?"  
Cindy stepped next to him and pointed northward. "South Amesbury. That road with all the big Victorian mansions."  
"Cool," he said, nodding his appreciation. Cindy realized she was blushing, and that he was really hot, and in tip-top-boy-shape from playing soccer.

"I'm Char," he said, holding out his hand to shake hers. Cindy outstretched hers. Her fingers tingled as it touched his. "I'm—" She trailed off.  
Char smiled at her, not seeming to care that she had avoided saying her name. "Glad we could meet. Hey, maybe we could meet up later sometime? At a café or something? Watch a movie?"  
Cindy swallowed. "Uh, yeah! We can!"  
"Uh—here." Char stretched out his phone. "Put yours in."  
Cindy hesitated. "My—uh, my what?"  
Char chuckled like she had said a funny joke. "Your number."  
Cindy twisted a lock of hair. "My _number_? You want my—oh. Right. Well, I—"

Stepmother usually kept it locked away in a drawer—her phone, that is. But tonight, she had begged and begged and begged Anastasia, who had promised to keep the secret and give Cindy her phone—if Cindy gave her extra desserts every day for a month.

"What?" Char looked confused.

Cindy scratched her hair. "My phone. It has a problem right now and, uh…frankly, I haven't actually _repaired _it—"

Char frowned. "Okay. Well. Still put your number in, please. If that's okay with you. I won't call until you notify me that your phone is all good."  
"How do I notify you?"

Char raised his eyebrows. "By calling me?"  
Cindy nodded, facepalming. "_Oh_! Right. Sorry."

Char grinned.

Suddenly her purse vibrated. Cindy reached in and pulled out her cell phone.  
"It seems okay to me!" Char said, looking frustrated now.

Cindy smiled weakly. "It's working now? Yay!" She looked at her screen. It was a text. From…

_Peter_.

"That ass," Cindy growled. "He left me!"  
"_Who_?" demanded Char, completely clueless.

"My friend," Cindy said. "He was supposed to take me home."

Char grinned again. "_I _can take you home."  
Cindy shook her head rapidly. "No, my other friend Belle already has the car ready. I actually have to be going."  
Cindy logged in to read her text message:

**You have 1 new message:**

**Peter: i need 2 tell u something its urgent pls come home pls pls pls! **

**Im super sorry I left u I didn't mean 2 honest but I had 2. Come home and I will tell u everything. I promise!**

Cindy took a deep breath. "I think there's an emergency, Char. At home. So…I'll see you?"

Char nodded. "Put in your number first."  
Cindy nodded too. "Sure, sure." She quickly entered in her cell phone number. She looked up at Char's face. "Remember, no calling unless I call first. Okay?"  
Char raised his palms. "Absolutely. I swear."  
Belle's silver Toyota rolled up to the curb, and Cindy gave Char's phone back and stuffed hers into her purse, not even bothering to zip it.

She broke into a run where you're panting and sweating and praying not to fall over.

She slid into the passenger seat of Belle's car. She spotted Char waving something. He was waving and yelling really really loudly. But Cindy couldn't hear

She rolled down her window. "Char, I can't stop! I'm sorry, I have to go!"  
"Yur' 'one!" he was yelling over and over again. "Yur' 'one!"  
"Hope we can meet again," was all Cindy could say as Belle's Toyota rolled down the street, heading towards home.

* * *

_I tried to stop her._

_-Char_

Cindy.

Char reached down to see what the girl had dropped. He felt the smooth surface of her iPhone. He sucked in air. Oh, _crap_.

"Your phone!" he yelled, running after her friend's car. "Your phone!"  
She yelled something, he didn't hear.

He looked down. It was unlocked and sitting on her text messages. Char just shook his head. What to do...what to do. He didn't even know her name, and here was her phone.

He was just too unlucky.

But as he looked down, he realized…maybe he could find out who she was. Find her. Return her phone.

And get a kiss as a reward?  
Smiling to himself, Char tucked the phone into his pocket, and returned to the party.

* * *

_I never dreamed there would actually be an emergency. _

_-Wendy_

Wendy finished dancing with Jim and pulled away.

"Excuse me," she said to him, eyes cornflower blue and wide. "I have to look for someone."  
Jim nodded. "Sure. I'll see you later then."

Wendy weaved through the party, spotted Ariel and touched her arm. Ariel jumped. "Wen!"  
Wendy smiled. "Have you seen Peter?"  
Ariel frowned. "I haven't, actually. Is he at the party?"  
"I saw him…" Wendy trailed off and began moving through the swarms of people. Wendy spotted her purse over on an overstuffed bench by the door. She grabbed it to check for any messages from John.

There were 17.

With a gasp of surprise, Wendy surfed through them. They all carried the same messages.

Dad's home.

Dad's wild.

Help.

Wendy, come home.

Wendy, we need you.

_Help_.

Wendy, threw her phone back into her purse, zipped it shut and began to hunt for her coat. Blindly pawing through mounds of fabric, she couldn't even register what she was doing.

Little Michael was only four. Couldn't shield himself from their drunk, angry, wild father. And didn't know when to stop talking.

John, who corrected their father, could make him angrier. He also didn't have the gall to protect Michael from Mr. Darling. Wendy knew she had to get home. She was their only protection.

_Dani_.

Something clicked with Wendy; Dani Spark was her ride home. She didn't have a prayer without Dani; Beddington Lane, where her house was situated was much too far away to walk.

And as Wendy peered out through one of the long glass windows, she realized it was raining heavily. Her dress would be ruined, and with heels, the task would be impossible.

Wendy tore through the party, asking people about Dani Spark and where she was.

She spotted Jasmine Nazari lounging on the couch with a bottle of booze in hand.

"Jasmine," Wendy said, warily approaching her. Jasmine was a snarky junior girl with a serious attitude. They said she was a sexpot, though not as much as the Triton Girls. But a close second.

Was that…_lingerie _she was wearing?  
Ignoring that, Wendy knelt next to her. "Jasmine, have you seen Dani Spark?"

Jasmine pushed a heap of black hair out of her almond shaped dark eyes, made smoky with eyeliner and mascara. "The girl with the iPod?"  
Wendy flinched. There were tons of girls with iPods here. That didn't help. "She has blonde hair. Gray eyes. She was wearing a glittery dress…and hanging with Ariel Triton earlier today."  
Jasmine nodded. "I've been drunk all night, but I _swear_ I saw her hanging with Tarzan Mangals, the DJ."  
"Thanks," Wendy left Jasmine and ran to the DJ. Tarzan Mangals was tan and muscly, wearing a tight shirt and red shorts, his hair in soft chocolate-colored dreadlocks. His eyes a piercing emerald green that just stole your soul.

"Hi," Wendy said timidly. Time was running out.

Tarzan tilted his head. "Song suggestion?"  
"Was there a girl hanging out here with you earlier? With blonde hair? She suggested that Celine Dion song."  
Tarzan's eyes widened. "Ohhh, _Dani_? Yeah, she's talking to those senior peeps over there."  
"Bye!" Wendy was already running towards her friend. "Daaaaaaaani!"  
Dani turned around. Wendy crashed into her, almost bowling her over. "Danidanidanilistentomeineedaridehomebecausejohnandmichaelareintroubleandihavetohelpthemsowillyoupleasegivemearide?"

Dani raised her eyebrows. "Huh?"  
Wendy repeated herself, near tears.

Dani shook her head. "Wen—Wen, please slow down. I can't understand a word you're saying."  
Wendy began to cry. "_Listen to me! I need a ride home because John and Michael are in trouble and I have to help them so will you please GIVE ME A RIDE?"  
_Dani grabbed Wendy's arms. "I'll go get my keys. Be right back."

Wendy ran to the door to try and find her coat. She suddenly felt a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't Little Miss I'll Kick You Where The Sun Doesn't Shine."  
Wendy whirled around to face Gaston. "I'm not in the mood, Gaston!" she screamed. "I'm going home anyway!"  
"Party sucked?" Gaston taunted, leaning close to her. She could smell wine on his breath. As usual, a crowd of onlookers had gathered.

Wendy pulled her purse and coat close. Her purse contained her cash, her phone, her makeup, and heavy metal waterbottle. Wendy tried to close her eyes and block Gaston out.

"Come on, Darling," mocked Gaston. "Show me what you're made of. Do something. Try and stop me. Darling! _Dar_ling, do something!"  
Where the hell was Dani? She had gone about a million hours ago!  
Gaston placed his hands on her chest. "Say you love me, Darling."

That was too much. Wendy grabbed her purse by the handle and whacked it into the side of his head, heavy waterbottle and all.

Gaston slumped to the ground.

Wendy tore out of the Triton's mansion, racing across the wet sodden ground, getting her curls wet. She didn't care anymore. It was her brothers' fate that matters.

She had been running for quite a while when headlights splashed onto the back of her dress. Wendy turned around, gasping as muddy water sprayed her—and the car stopped right in front.

The door opened, and fingers wrapped around her wrist, yanking her into the car.

"No!" Wendy howled. "Let _go_ of me! Let me go!" She continued her screaming as he was pulled into the car. She tumbled into the passenger side of the front seat and a hand covered her mouth.

"Shhhh, Wendy."

Wendy didn't bother to look at her assailant, kept kicking and scratching and slapping.

"Ow!"

Wendy recognized the sign as pain. Good. She could get away.

"Wendy—come on—"

Wendy lashed out again and smacked the person's shoulder this time. Hard.

Suddenly, her captor caught her wrists and held them down hard. "Wendy. Stop."

Wendy finally looked up, and realized who it was.

"Jim," she said out loud.

"It's just me," he said, letting go of her, rubbing his wounded eye. "Geez."

"Sorry!" Wendy gasped. "I didn't know—maybe you could give me a little heads up next time, before _kidnapping_ me."  
Jim shook his head. "I was going home, and I saw you walking. I thought maybe I could give you a ride. That's what friends do, right?"

Wendy sat back. "Beddington Lane. Can you drive fast, please?"  
_

The lights were on in John's room.

Wendy raced inside, and stopped at the porch. "Thanks for driving me, Jim!" she called.  
"I'm coming in," he declared, and started to follow her. "You could need help."  
"I don't need you to save me," Wendy panted, throwing her coat on the ground and streaking up the stairs.

"You don't need it, but I'm giving it anyway," Jim snapped, right behind her, pissed off.

Wendy threw open the door to John's room. Michael and John were cowering behind the bed, and their father was smashing things.

"M-my homework," whimpered John. "He tore it. And it's due…tomorrow."  
Wendy let out a huff of exasperation. "Daddy. Daddy, get out of his room."  
"Where are you, Wen-day? I can't see you."  
"Right here." Wendy got up in his face. "Can you see me now?" she screamed into his ear.

Jim appeared inside.

"Who's he?" John demanded.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Michael asked timidly.

"Who the hell are you?" yelled Mr. Darling. "Some kind of pirate-wannabe? Get the hell out of my house!"  
"Why don't you stop harrassing your kids first?" Jim yelled back.

Mr. Darling lunged forward. "Why, you son of a b—"

"Daddy, _stop_!" Desperately, Wendy yanked her father away from Jim. Mr. Darling whirled around and smacked Wendy across the face, causing her to tumble to the ground.

"Wendy!" Jim ran forward, plowing into Mr. Darling and knocking him down.

Mr. Darling pushed Jim off. "By Thunder, I'll fix you…" he whispered softly, dramatically.

"Daddy, please don't hurt him—" Wendy screamed.

Mr. Darling raised one of Michael's splintery wooden chairs and slammed it down on Jim's head.

Wendy covered her mouth with one hand. With that one moment, Wendy shoved her father against the wall. Hard.

Mr. Darling slumped to the carpeted flooring.

"Jimjimjimjim!" Wendy knelt down on the ground. "Oh God. Jim, please, say something!"  
Jim shook his head. "I'm fine. I just have a scrape."  
"A scrape—Jim, you're _bleeding_!" Wendy cried. "This is all my fault."  
Jim chuckled. "Why do girls always say that? Is it flirting or something? It's stupid. Wendy, help me up."  
Wendy did so. Jim grabbed Mr. Darling's arm. "Take his other arm," he instructed Wendy.

The two of them hauled him to his room and Wendy got the master keys, locking him in.

"You gonna be okay here?" Jim asked, walking down the stairs. Wendy followed him.

_No. I'm scared_. But she nodded. "I'm fine."  
Jim smiled. "Okay."  
"Wait!" Wendy grabbed his hand. "There's antibiotics, bandaids, and creams in the bathroom. Fix up your cut first."  
Jim obliged, disappearing into her bathroom for a while before emerging with a fresh BandAid over his cut. "It has Spongebob," he said, and laughed.

"They're Michael's," Wendy replied, and laughed, too.

Jim finally headed for the door. "I have to be going."  
Wendy nodded. "I'm sorry again about my dad. He's a monster when he's drunk."  
When Jim spoke next his voice was really soft. "Mine was too."  
Wendy leaned forward. "Where's yours?"  
Jim didn't say a word. He turned and began walking towards his car. Just before he got in, he whispered one single word.

"Gone."  
A tear slid down Wendy's cheek. She couldn't imagine it. "When?"  
Jim got in his car, but kept the window open. "When I was eight."  
Wendy looked down. "I'm s—"

"I sure as hell don't need you feeling sorry for me," said Jim with a light cheerful tone that Wendy knew he was faking. "Because it's no big deal."  
Wendy looked into Jim's eyes. They carried secrets and sorrows and starlight. "Are you sure?"

Jim nodded. "After all, I'm doing just fine."

His car disappeared down the streets.

A tear ran down Wendy's cheeks. "Everyone needs a father, Jim," she whispered. "Even you."


	11. Interrogation

**Hi people! Sooo I updating TWO chapters this weekend! Yay! It's good progress I'm making, and I'm having tons of fun writing this. I hope you guys are having fun reading it! **

***Quick note: the Italics excerpts farther into Jim's POV in this chapter are from the book, "Little Women," by Louisa May Alcott, so don't get confused. Jim is reading while waiting for the cops to call his name. **

**Also—I was being really stupid and forgot to tell you: the time period is kind of into the future. In this world, just so you're not confused kids below 18 can STILL be executed; JUST LIKE ADULTS CAN. But only—I repeat, ONLY—if the crime is huge.  
For example, murder. Hint, hint, wink, wink. Big giveaway for the story.**

**Okay, let's get on with this chapter already! **

**ENJOY! **

* * *

_The cops are here. But I didn't do it this time._

_-Jim_

Jim walked into homeroom, and the first thing he saw was a cop. His gut instinct was to bolt, but instead he paused in the doorway, fingers skimming his backpack strap.

"Uh," he said, eyes darting around. His classmates looked as freaked as him.

He spotted Ariel Triton, looking tired and hungover, as did most of his classmates; the ones at the Triton girls' party.

"Mr. Hawkins," said Mrs. Potts, his homeroom teacher. "Come on in. Late as usual…" she marked him late on her attendance chart. Jim slid into position three seats away from Charlotte La Bouff. Charlotte turned to him. "Did you do it?"  
Jim blinked. "Huh?"  
Charlotte leaned over Carla Hemingway, between the two of them to whisper in his ear. "Did you steal Princess Kida's Crystal?"

Jim shook his head. "Whoa, whoa—what the hell is that?"  
Charlotte leaned back, disappointed she didn't have someone to snitch on. "Never mind."  
Mrs. Potts tented her fingers on top of a large manila envelope. "Class, this is Officer Rhimes. He's here to talk to certain students about a crime that happened last night. We believe someone that attends Walt Disney might have committed it. So he's just going to talk."  
Cory Liu raised her hand. "Are we still going to all our classes?"  
Mrs. Potts tucked a frizzy piece of graying hair behind her exquisitely small ears. "No, we're actually going to stay in homeroom until the police are gone and have a sort of extended study hall. So…." In a feeble attempt to be cheerful, Mrs. Potts slapped her palms together. "Get out your independent reading books! I want silence."  
Officer Rhimes stepped forward. "I'll just be calling kids up by alphabetical order. If you hear your name, just step outside for a moment into my office. First up: Abinford, Gaston?"

* * *

Time passed.

Nearly an hour had gone by. Charlotte was filing her nails, and Jim, who didn't have a reading book, as usual, had resorted to drumming his pencil against the top of the desk.

Jim spotted Aladdin Ahmed, who had been called out by Rhimes as well a few seats in front of him. He reached forward and tapped Jamie Cerlich on the shoulder. "Get Aladdin for me."  
Jamie reached forward and tapped Aladdin's shoulder, gesturing back to Jim.

Aladdin grinned weakly. "Sup, man."  
Jim got right to the point. "What did the cop ask you in his office?"  
Aladdin cracked his neck. "They asked me where I was last night, if I'd ever seen the Crystal, if I'd seen any unusual characters on Green Bay Street. I said I didn't, and they just glared at me, like they knew I was lying." Aladdin shuddered. "Rhimes' eyes are like black pools. You can't lie while looking into them. You can't hide anything."  
Jim raised his palms in the air. "I have nothing to hide. I didn't do anything!"  
"Then," said Mrs. Potts, passing by. "You have nothing to be afraid of, Mr. Hawkins. Take out a book."  
Jim slumped. "I don't have one."  
Mrs. Potts shook her head with annoyance. "I'll give you one. How about a great American classic, mmm? Would you like to read one of those?"  
"No."  
Mrs. Potts smirked. "Wrong answer, Mr. Hawkins." She vanished behind her desk and then brought out a paperback book with four young women in old fashioned gowns on the front.

She held it out in front of the frowning boy. "How about _Little Women_?"

* * *

" '_Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo, lying on the rug." _

Jim rolled his eyes, trying to stop reading without Mrs. Potts noticing. Officer Rhimes stuck his head in the door.

"Damigo, Vitani? Outside in my office, please."

Jim raised his head and began to close _Little Women_, trying not to shudder at the old-fashioned language and girliness of the girls within the dreadfully boring pages.

"Mr. Hawkins," warned Mrs. Potts. "Return your eyes to the book."  
Jim obliged.

" '_Oh, if life is often so hard as this, I don't see how we ever shall get through it…'"_

Jim gritted his teeth. Geez, shut the hell up, Mary Lou or Betsy Ann or Emily Sue or whatever their names were! He lowered his head to the smooth wood of his desk. Life is very often hard, he thought. Life throws cliffs your way that can very surely make you fall to your doom, but you'll never pass that point in your life unless you learn to fly.

Jim knew he yet had to learn to fly.

"Jim."  
He turned around to see Ariel Triton leaning forward.

Was she crying? Mascara was smudged underneath her eyes and her nose was bright red.  
"Jim," Ariel said. "Jim—can you do me a favor?"  
Jim leaned back. "Anything—as long as it doesn't concern reading _Little Ladies_."  
Ariel gave him a small smile. "Little _Women_. It's _Little Women_. And—it doesn't relate to that. I want you to ask your mom if I can have a pay raise."  
Jim leaned back as if she had just slapped him. "You literally just started working at the Benbow three days ago. She won't do it."  
Ariel narrowed her eyes. "She will if you ask her."  
"No, she won't!"  
"Mr. Hawkins! Miss Triton!" cried Mrs. Potts. "Mr. Hawkins, read your book!"  
Jim turned around slowly.

Ariel slumped, and a tear settled on her eyelashes. "Please," she begged in a whisper.

Jim was still turned around and he didn't plan to look at her again. "If you tell me why."  
"Jim, would you just—"  
Jim whirled around, frustrated and furious. "Tell me why, Triton. Tell me _now_."  
The redhead took a deep breath. "I'll come over today after school and tell you. Okay? I promise."  
Jim calculated. Work was tomorrow, and Ariel was coming over today. He could easily ask his mom after she told him. He nodded his consent at her, and she smiled in relief.

"Hawkins, James?"  
Jim froze. Ariel's sea blue eyes widened. Jim focused on Officer Rhimes, a tall muscly man with dark, dark eyes, just like Aladdin had promised. They carried dungeons and steel traps and blazing fires. They had locked more than just one man in prison.

Jim got up and began numbly following Rhimes out the door.

"If you'd step into my office," said Rhimes coolly, parting a sea green curtain to the side of the hallway.

It wasn't an office; it was more of those cheap cubicles, seperated from the rest of the world by a soft curtain.

Jim ducked into the confines of it. There were two chairs, a red plastic one, and a big threating black swivel chair.

The red plastic one was a folding chair, cheap, and looked like the Bad-Boy Timeout chairs his mom used to put him in when he was little.

Jim sucked in air and took a seat. The chair squeaked under him.

"Don't look so nervous, Hawkins," said Rhimes, settling into his black swivel chair. There was a low-wattage bulb hanging on a single thread above them, and a metal desk—a small one—seperating the two chairs. Holding judgment as solid as a concrete brick.

Jim leaned back in the chair, trying to act cool and natural.

Rhimes leaned forward. "I'm just gonna ask you some questions, Hawkins, and you're gonna give me some answers. _Comprende_?"

"Yeah."  
Rhimes squeezed the handles on his chair, and made his muscles flex. Jim's cheek muscles twitched. "Where were you last night at aroud two in the morning?"  
Heat flooded Jim's cheeks. "A party."  
"Where?"  
He shifted uneasily in the hard plastic confines. "The Triton girls' house."  
Rhimes wrote it down. "Okay. So you were still there at around two. When did you leave?"  
"I left at two-thirty."  
Rhimes scribbled down more information on his clipboard. _What could he possibly be writing? I've barely told him anything._ "Why did you leave so suddenly at two-thirty? You look like a person who'd rather be partying?"  
Jim shrugged and decided to tell the truth. "My friend needed a ride home."  
"Who's your friend?"  
Rhimes sounded like such a pedophile. Jim let out a breath. "Wendy."  
Rhimes was still patient and going at it. "Okay, son, that doesn't really help, does it? Wendy _who_?"  
"Wendy—Darling."  
Rhimes's eyes widened. "Yes, another girl, Dani Spark, mentioned that she gave Wendy Darling a ride to the party. Why didn't Dani give her a ride back? Perhaps you and this Darling girl were co-conspirators! Perhaps you stole the Crystal together, to sell it and split the money!"  
Jim shook his head. Rhimes was moving too fast. Where he had gotten this conclusion from Jim had no idea. "Dani gave her a ride, probably, but Wendy had a family emergency at home and couldn't find Dani."  
Rhimes moved his pencil across the paper. "Couldn't—find—Dani," he spoke out loud as he wrote. "Where do you think Dani was? Do you think _Dani_ had snuck out of the party to go steal the Crystal?"  
Jim stood up in the chair. "_Stop_. You're accusing that innocent freshman girl of stealing a Crystal? None of us frickin' knows were the princess lives! I thought she went back to Atlanta or wherever she came from a long time ago. After the assembly, I mean. Stop blaming stuff on other people."  
Rhimes looked cool and collected. "But that's my job, isn't it, son?" he said softly. "I'm a secret agent working for Princess Kidagakash. She wants me to find out who took the Crystal."  
"For the love of God!" Jim yelled. "She's a _princess_! Ask her to buy herself a new frickin' crystal! She doesn't need to get the same—exact—one."  
"Ever thought of sentimental value? Life connection?" Rhimes shot back. "That's what's happening here. For your _information_, Hawkins, the Crystal is connected to Princess Kida's life."  
Jim's eyes widened as he understood.

Rhimes nodded, his words harsh. "Without the Crystal, the princess of Atlantis will die. And the kingdom will be without a ruler. Perhaps war will break out. Perhaps natural disasters, or famines, or droughts. Perhaps a big rebellion that could stretch to your country. But let's look at the part that concerns _you_, or whoever took the Crystal." Rhimes got up close in Jim's face. "If Kida dies, that will basically be murder."  
"What if the person didn't know?" Jim asked in a hushed, cracked tone.

"It doesn't matter," Rhimes replied calmly. "They're going to be put to death."  
Jim shook his head. "That's not right."  
"What?" Rhimes tilted his head in a childlike way. "You have anything to confess, Hawkins?"  
Jim shook his head again, more rapidly this time. "No. I didn't do anything, I _swear_."

Rhimes stared at him for a long time, and Jim looked hard into the black pools that were his eyes.

Finally, Rhimes let out a breath and leaned back over his metal desk. "Fine, Hawkins," he said at last. "Go back to class."  
Jim started to exit the crude cubicle, and he heard Rhimes say something directly behind him:  
"And we better get Wendy Darling in here."

* * *

_For the first time in my life, I'm afraid. _

_-Flynn_

"Have a seat, Fitzherbert."  
Flynn Rider sat down on the hard plastic chair, looking up at Officer Rhimes in his blue police outfit. He cringed at the use of his real name, Eugene Fitzherbert. He had preferred to use Flynn Rider, but apparently, nicknames were not this cop's thing.

"So. I'm guessing you were also at the party last night. At Triton's house."  
Flynn nodded. "Yeah."  
Rhimes nodded as well. "And—do you know a certain character by the name of Dani Spark?"  
Flynn jumped. "D-dani _Spark_? Yeah—why?"  
"She is a suspect."  
Flynn nearly fell off the chair. "_Dani_? Wait, Dani's totally innocent. She's a freshman girl who doesn't care about riches or anything like that. She's just a totally normal, regular society girl who has simple dreams for the future. Y'know the kind: graduate high school, get a summer job, go to college, have a family, e.t.c. She would never commit a single crime."  
"So who would?" demanded Rhimes, his nose inches from Flynn's.

Flynn leaned back. "Ever heard of personal boundaries?"  
Rhimes smacked the metal desk. "Answer my question, Fitzherbert!"  
Flynn shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it would help to tell me what this is all about, Officer?"  
The cop chuckled. "Oh, silly me. I didn't tell you?"  
"No."  
Rhimes's eyes hardened. "Remember Princess Kida?"  
"Yes."  
"Her life force, her one sustenance, her remembrance of her past, her _Crystal_—the one around her neck—was stolen from her last night. At around two in the morning. And Green Bay Street—which is where the Baker guesthouse is located—is right near Oceanview Avenue, where Triton's house is. So we were wondering if one—or several—of the high schoolers who attended that party last night stole it."

Flynn froze. "The Crystal."  
"That's right."  
_Pan stole it. He wanted to pawn it to Pigeon! And I was gonna get half of the dirty money! So I'm involved in this scheme. What the hell?!_

Flynn took a deep breath. "Let me ask you. If I _did_ steal the Princess's crystal, which I assure you that I did not, what would be my punishment if I were found out?"  
"Why, you'd be put to death, of course," said Rhimes, smiling. "See, the Crystal holds Kida's life. Without it, she'll die. It'll be basic murder against the party or parties who stole it. So execution is simply the only way." Rhimes stopped smiling. "Fitzherbert. I know you want to confess something."  
Flynn massaged his temples. He couldn't _believe_ he was doing this. "Pan."  
Rhimes cocked his head and sat down across from Flynn. "What was that, Fitzherbert?"  
"Pan," said Flynn again, blinking. "Peter Pan. Did you talk to him yet? Like, interrogate him?"  
"No."

Flynn nodded. "Do that. You'll get the answers you need from him."  
Rhimes began to write rapidly on a piece of paper. "Why is that, Fitzherbert?"

Flynn rested his chin on his elbows. "Just trust me. You'll know what you need to know."  
Rhimes stopped writing. "Thank you. You've been helpful."  
"Yeah," he muttered as he got up to leave. "That's what I'm worried about."

* * *

**Questions? Comments? Review them! How was this chapter? Hashtag cliffhanger! **


	12. Interrogations Part 2

**Okay, I admit it. I really hate Peter in this chapter. Like, a lot. I feel bad for him in the end, but otherwise I hate him and feel SO BAD for Jim! :( **

**Enjoy! **

* * *

_I was holding my breath the whole time—I couldn't let it out till after I left that sweaty little cubicle._

_-Wendy_

Wendy Darling stared at Officer Rhimes.

"Sit," said Rhimes, tenting his fingers. Wendy walked forward, settling down on the red plastic chair.

Wendy shook her head. "I'm sorry, why am I here, Officer?"  
Rhimes smiled at Wendy, but not in a good way. "I'm sure you're aware of the crime that happened last night."  
"Was it on the news?"  
"Do we want the whole nation to know? No." Rhimes stood. "Princess Kida's crystal was stolen. It is the one thing that keeps her alive."

Wendy gasped. "So she'll..die?"  
"Isn't that what I just said?" Rhimes said in a singsong voice. "I know you were at that Triton girl party. You left early. For a family emergency. Care to tell me what that was? What was the reason you left so suddenly, much before the actual party ended?"  
"I'm don't really go out much," Wendy confessed. "I'm not much of a party girl. And the family emergency—" Wendy stopped. If she told Officer Rhimes about her father returning from bars each night crazy and drunk, he might remove Michael, John and her from his custody and have them switch schools, send them to some relative they didn't know, or have them sent to an orphanage, even. And their father could possibly go to jail.

Wendy swallowed. "The family emergency—my brother fell down the stairs. Tripping on a toy."  
Rhimes frowned. "That's all?"  
Wendy nodded. "Yes."  
"They were home alone?"  
Wendy swallowed again. "My dad was home, too."  
Rhimes scribbled something down. "So you didn't trust your father to take care of your brothers?"  
Wendy felt herself getting trapped in Rhimes's words. "Of course I did, but John called me and said our father had gone out to the corner store to buy…milk."  
"Milk."  
Wendy nodded rapidly. "Milk. We were fresh out, and I felt I had to go take care of my brother—since I had no clue when Daddy would get back. So I left. My brothers are everything to me."  
Rhimes wrote something else down on his paper. "Good. Let's leave that subject…what are your thoughts of Green Bay Street?"  
Wendy tilted her head. "Green Bay? Just a simple road; a residential area."  
"What buildings are there on Green Bay?"  
Wendy pushed her hair out of her eyes. "Uh. The Mariott? There's the…." Wendy's eyes lit up. "Baker Guesthouse."  
Rhimes nodded. "Exactly. That's where the princess was staying for the last few days. That's where the Crystal was stolen. A window was smashed with a rock. Did you see any suspicious characters along that street? Along Ocean View Avenue?"  
Wendy shook her head. "I did not. Can I ask you something, _Officer_?"  
Rhimes heard the contempt in her voice and decided not to push his luck, but allow her to ask.

Wendy leaned forward. "How do you select the students you want to interrogate? Do you just call them at random? Or do you have a list of all the students at the party?"  
Rhimes licked his lips. "Well, that's a good question, Miss Darling," he said. "But we start with the kids who have bad school records, criminal records, arrest records."

Now, totally lost, Wendy stood sharply. "I don't have any of those bad records. You can't ask me these questions, expecting me to—"  
"No," said Rhimes coolly. "We didn't even look at your records. Jim Hawkins was speaking about you, and the answers he gave led me to interview you. But it seems you are clean. We have also spoken to Dani Spark, and she is a defenite suspect."  
"_Dani_? You're freaking _kidding_ me, right?"  
Rhimes ignored her and kept talking. "What is your opinion on Jim Hawkins? Is he a bad person? Is he someone you would have guessed to steal a crystal? How is his family financially?"  
"I don't know," Wendy said finally. "I don't know about his finances. And yes—I'm sure he has some sort of arrest record or something, because he does get into trouble often, but he's not a bad person."

Rhimes nodded evenly. "Another student told me to speak with a Pan. I interviewed many students and there was no mention of a 'Pan.' Surname or first name."  
Wendy shrugged.

Rhimes continued: "The student described him as 'skinny boy with red hair and green eyes. And lives in a rich family.' He promised I'd get my answers from this Pan. Who is he?"  
"Skinny boy, red hair, green eyes," Wendy murmured, closing her eyes. "Who could this be?" Then she gasped. "You must mean Peter! Peter Tremaine? Where did you get _Pan_ from?"

"It was information given to me by a student," said Rhimes, "whose name I cannot disclose right now. You are innocent, by my ruling, at least for now, Miss Darling. You may leave."  
Wendy stood, stepped out of the cubicle at last, parting the sea green curtain and walked into the blue-tiled hallway, finally daring to breathe.

* * *

_I can't have regrets, or feelings. At times like this, I have to be made out of stone._

_-Peter_

Officer Rhimes spoke to Peter the longest out of all the other students.

Peter was rigid and sat completely still as a statue in that hard chair, prayed to God Flynn Rider hadn't told anything unnecessary, and spoke in as few words as possible.

It was towards the end of the interrogation, and Peter was holding onto the handles on the chair as if he were riding a rollercoaster at superfast speed.

"Alright," said Rhimes. "Where were you around two?"  
"The party."

"Alright. You saw no suspicious activity? Near Green Bay street or any of the surrounding streets?"  
"No."  
Rhimes brought his face close to Peter's. "Do not lie to me, Tremaine. If you lie, consequences will result. You know what happens to that miserable slugslime sack of pus. That yellow-bellied son of a street rat is gonna wish he'd never been born. Because he's going to be put to death. In the square. With everyone from this city watching."  
Peter swallowed. "Lucky him."  
Rhimes nodded. "Exactly. So, Tremaine. How are we going to do this? Have you confessed everything necessary?"  
Peter looked away. "I have nothing else to tell you."

Rhimes stared for a little while longer. "Well," he said at last. "You are the last student I have on my list. Tremaine, Peter. So tomorrow—I will be checking houses. See you then."  
Peter cocked his head. "I'd try a _facility_, if I were you. Not houses."  
"Trying to take the blame off yourself, Tremaine?"  
Peter shrugged. "Come search my house. Come search to the corners of the Earth to try and pin the blame on my, I wouldn't give a crap. I didn't do it." Peter grinned; lying came easily to him.

Rhimes narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, a facility?"

Peter shrugged. "_Facilities_. I mean, restaurants, cafés, libraries, hotels, anything associated with these juvenile delinquents."  
Rhimes didn't seem to be comprehending what Peter said. "Give me an example, Tremaine."

"Okay," Peter said cheerfully. "For example, Vitani Damigo, her father's bar. The Saint."  
Rhimes wrote it down quickly. "Are you blaming Miss Damigo?" he demanded. "Is she to blame? Did she steal the Crystal?"  
Peter shook his head rapidly. Rhimes had a bad habit of making conclusions too quickly. "No, no, she's not to blame, I don't think. But I'm just using the Saint as an example because it's a facility that we can relate to a student you interrogated today."  
Rhimes nodded slowly. "I'm beginning to get it, Tremaine. Maybe Fitzherbert was right when he said I'd get answers from you."  
Peter nodded. "But everything I say here is to be kept strictly confidential. I'll write up a contract with a lawyer if I have to. But no one can know what I say here."  
"No contract necessary," said Rhimes, apparently still thinking. "I'll keep it a secret." Then finally, he slapped his hands together. "Like a ratio, right? Cat is to mouse, peanut butter is to jelly. Just like that, facility or house to juvenile student."  
Peter grinned. "You got it."  
"Benbow is to Hawkins."  
Peter's head snapped up with a small smile. The Benbow was connected to Jim Hawkins' room. Rhimes would have no trouble discovering the Crystal; he was an agent.

Rhimes slapped the metal desk with his palms. "We're done, Tremaine. See you tomorrow."

* * *

Outside, Peter took a deep breath to calm his nerves.

This was all for Wendy. He loved Wendy, and this _convicting _of Jim Hawkins was for her.

He looked down the blue tiled hallway and spotted Wendy drinking water from the water fountain, pushing her hair back behind her ears as she drank.

"Wendy!" Peter jogged towards her.

Wendy raised her head, wiping droplets of water off her full lower lip. "Peter. Did you just get interviewed?"  
Peter nodded. "Everything's going to be fine, Wendy." He meant it.

"I hope so," Wendy replied.

"Wendy, can I ask you something?" Peter asked softly. "What do you think of me?"

Wendy's eyes widened. "I—think of you? Peter, I—a friend? A good friend, like I said before. I'm sorry if—"

She saw Peter's face looking hurt and ashamed. "Peter. You know that I—I do like you. But I've begun to feel—"

"Feel for _who_?" Peter yelled at the top of his lungs, startling everyone, including himself. "Who, Jim Hawkins? It's _stupid_!"  
"You don't control me!" Wendy cried with indignation.

Peter grabbed her arm, squeezing it tight. "I did it for you!" he yelled.

Wendy began to shake her head. "You did what?"  
Peter broke away and began to run.

"_PETER!" _screamed Wendy. "Peter, wait, don't go! Please, wait!"  
The last thing he saw before bolting out the double doors was Jim Hawkins, appearing behind Wendy, his arm going around her shoulders.

Well, he didn't know who he was up against.

The one and only Peter Pan.


	13. Arguments and Conclusions

**For those who like drama between Jim Hawkins and his father, you will LOVE this chapter. **

**Hopefully. **

**His father returns, problems result. It also has a bit of Ariel and Dani Spark. So hope you guys enjoy! And Rhimes figures out who the Crystal Thief is. Well, WE know who it is, don't we? But Rhimes gets it all totally completely wrong...**

**Thanks, Peter. For framing our pal Jim. **

* * *

_I don't want him here. But Mom opened the door anyway. _

_-Jim_

As Jim walked down Joaquin Street, he stopped in front of the Benbow for a while to just stare at it. Small and cozy, with big gilt letters standing out to introduce this little drafty diner to the whole state of New York. The first B was crooked, and Jim had no idea how it happened, but he enjoyed looking at it. It changed things up a bit.

Across the street from the Benbow was Heidi Cogsworth Park. Jim looked across at the park, remembering the story. Bertie Cogsworth, a very rich clock factory owner who used to live here had a daughter, Heidi, who was killed in a car accident days before her wedding. The tragic event sent everyone into shock and sadness. Heidi had been a person who greatly affected the community, by helping anyone in any way she can.

Jim sighed, ran his hands through his hair. In honor of her, Bertie Cogsworth had sold his entire clock factory and used it to buy this 70 acre park, and also construct a stone statue of Heidi to put smack dab in the center. People left trinkets, candles, flowers, and anything they could find to try and ease the pain.

A gray cloud of darkness had hung over New York City after Heidi Cogsworth had died.

Jim walked into the park, and spotted a familiar girl sitting over by the bench. He walked over, touched her shoulder.

She looked up. "Hi, Jim!"  
He leaned against the edge of the bench casually. "Hey, Dani. What're you doing?"  
Dani appeared to be drawing something in a large sketchbook, a yellow cardboard box of colored pencils open next to her on the bench.

"Drawing," she murmured. "You wanna know what I'm drawing?"  
"Sure."  
Dani looked up at him, gray eyes flashing with ecstasy. "The Benbow. Your diner."

Jim sat down next to her. "What do you see in the Benbow? It's _old_. And it's about to fall down."  
"It has potential," said Dani, grabbing a brown pencil out of her box, replacing the green one she had been using. "And I'm drawing trees around it. You know what I like most about the Benbow? Other than the food, of course."  
Jim chuckled. "Oh, I know. You like to stare at my face when I wait on tables, right?"  
Dani snorted. "Puh-leeze, Hawkins." Her eyes grew wistful as she stared at the Benbow. "I like the crooked B."  
Jim raised his eyebrows. "But it's…_crooked_."  
Dani nodded. "That's kind of the reason why I like it. The crooked B shows _character_. It says, 'I have a unique personality.' I see the Benbow differently than other diners. It's sort of like a scar. You know how some people hate scars because it messes up their face? Well, other people like it because it shows character. Like, you've been through something hard and lived."  
Jim was thoughtful as he looked down at Dani's drawing. "You made it all warped. And you made the B exactly how it is."  
"That B deserves praise," said Dani with a grin.

"Wanna hear something funny?" Jim asked. "That crooked B? Always reminds me of my mom. Because she has this sweet crooked smile, that slants just like that B."  
"Your mom," said Dani. "is beautiful, crooked smile and all. And she loves you."  
Jim laughed, jumped up, and straightened out his shirt. "I'm sure. Why are you being all mushy with me, Spark?"  
Dani flipped to a blank page. "Just letting you know, Hawkins."  
Jim sat on the ground. "Draw me. I'll strike a pose." With a grin of mischief he struck a male model pose on the grass.

Dani laughed and lowered a tan pencil to the page, then shook her head. "Why don't you just look somewhere? Like those faraway trees or something. I like to draw people that aren't _expecting _me to draw them. Like a natural pose."  
Jim twitched his lips. "You're a frickin' stalker, you know that, Spark?" Then his eyes softened. "But it pays off." He looked down at her drawings. "These are awesome."  
Dani blushed. "Thanks. Now look away. I'll draw you."

* * *

Jim had been watching the cityline in the distance over the tops of trees until the sky turned orange. "Forgot to ask you, Spark," Jim said slowly. "Where's your parents?"  
"Dad's golfing," Dani said. "Don't move your mouth."  
Jim turned his head sharply. "I have to be getting home, though. My mom expects me to do homework and wash dishes and all that crap."

Suddenly, a man's voice made Jim turn around.

"Dani, are you done drawing yet?"  
"Coming, Dad," said Dani, standing up and beginning to put her pencils away.

"Who's this?" asked Dani's father, gesturing to Jim.

"A friend," said Dani. "This is Jim. Jim, this is my father."  
Jim scrambled to his feet, wiped his pants free of grass stains, and shook the man's hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."  
"Sir?" the man turned jovial. "I'm Ron Spark, nothing to be formal about."  
Jim smiled and ducked his head.

"Bye, Jim," said Dani. "I'll show you the drawing at school after I've finished it. I got the basic outline, so that's good."  
"Cool," said Jim. "See you tomorrow. At school."

He neared the Benbow, and spotted a man lounging around outside. Jim didn't even think twice, he saw the brown hair in back, the seaman attitude he had, and the same suitcase that used to sit in his parents' bedroom closet.

A bright rainforest green.

Jim knew this man.

Jim ran around to the back door and let himself in.

He walked into the kitchen, dumping his schoolbag on the stairs.

"Where on earth have you been?" Sarah, his mother, demanded, walking in with an armload of dishes.

Jim shrugged out of his faded brown jacket and hung it on a peg. "I was in the park with one of my friends."

"What did you learn at school?"

"Nothing."  
"Got homework?"  
"Yeah."  
Sarah shifted. "When will you actually open up and talk to me, Jim?"

Jim stared straight ahead as he plunged his arms, elbow deep, into the soapy dishwater to wash the dishes.

Sarah was concerned now. "Jim? Honey? Are you okay? Did something happen at school?"  
Jim shook his head slowly. "Nothing happened at school."  
Sarah put her hands on her hips. "Fine. Tell me _one_ thing that happened at school today. Just one damn thing and I'll be happy. I won't bother you for the rest of the day."  
Jim swiped a plate with a green and yellow sponge.

"Please, honey."  
Jim didn't look at his mom, and spoke flatly to get it over with. "We did worksheets."  
"What subject?"  
Jim rolled his eyes. "Does it _matter_? It's _work_."  
"What. Subject?"  
Jim threw his hands in the air. "Math! _Math_, Mom! Are you frickin' satisfied now? Math, English, Social Studies, whatever else they teach us, they give us work, I do my work, I do my homework, I do chores, all I ask is for you to please leave me alone!"

Sarah just stared at her son for a long time.  
"Mom," said Jim.

She didn't say a word, just turned to leave.

"Mom, wait, I need to tell you something."  
"I just asked you something, didn't I, James?" his mother shot back. "Did you answer me in the way I wanted you to? Do I have to _press_ you every single day for a simple answer?"  
Jim lost control. "Mom, _LISTEN TO ME!"_

Sarah was once again completely taken aback.

Jim closed his eyes. "Please, Mom, listen to me."  
Sarah threw down her green dish towel. "For heaven's sake, Jim, tell me!"  
Jim swallowed. "Dad's outside."  
Sarah gasped, slapped a hand to her chest. "Your _father_? He's _here_? At the Benbow? Or at the park? Maybe he's just golfing or running or something with a buddy—"  
"He's _outside_ our door. He's waiting to come in, but he's hesitating."  
"But on such short notice? He would never. I told him to never—"

Irritated, Jim continued to squirt dishsoap into the sink. "Well, he didn't listen did he? And it wasn't exactly short notice."  
Sarah frowned. "What do you mean?"  
"He sent me an email a few nights ago. I told him not to come, but apparently my viewpoint isn't appreciated around here."  
Sarah sighed and removed her apron. "Let me go open the door."  
Jim grabbed her arm with soapy hands. "Mom, no!"  
Sarah bit her lip. "No?" she seemed to be contemplating.

Jim shook his head rapidly. "He'll start a fight. And then I'll end it."  
Sarah pulled away. "James Pleiades Hawkins, you will do no such thing. I'm going to go answer the door. It's not like it's a mass murderer standing at our doorstep. It's your _father_."  
"Same thing."  
"_Jim_."  
Jim averted his eyes and switched topics. "My friend Ariel is coming over today to talk to me about something. She wants a pay raise."  
Sarah slapped her skirt. "Honestly, those Triton girls! She only just started working here!"  
Jim rolled his eyes. "Apparently, she has a worthy excuse. She's coming over to tell me."  
Sarah sighed. "I'll consider it—after I hear her excuse. Let me go answer the door. I'll be right back, Jim."  
Jim began to wash dishes and think of things that happened at school. Peter Tremaine seemed pretty angry. He was a light, funny dude when Jim had first met him. What had happened? It was like high school had transformed him into some dark scary _man_.

"He's in here." His mother's voice jolted him back into reality.

Jim didn't turn around, only made his face stone.

"Hi, son."  
Jim turned around slowly, picking up a pile of dishes out of the sink to bring to the drying rack.

There stood an exact older version of him. With a goatee and a thin mustache and a neat crop of brown hair with a red bandanna over it. He carried that rainforest green suitcase, the same one he had carried when leaving when Jim was eight.

It was like Jim was peeking into the future to see what he would look like when he was older.

He dropped the dishes.

The crash made him remember where he was standing, and he bent down to gather them up.

Sinbad Hawkins chuckled. "Looks like seeing his old man made him scaredy, eh, Sarah?"  
Sarah didn't say anything, just marched forward and grabbed the dustpan.

"Let's look at you, Jimmy," said Sinbad.  
"It's Jim," he growled, tensing.

"_Don't_, Jim!" Sarah hissed, sweeping up the plate shards into a blue dustpan.

Sinbad tilted his head. "Huh. You got taller."

"What, Dad," Jim said innocently. "Did you think I was gonna stay 4 feet tall forever?"  
Sinbad gave him a tiny grin. "Kid, you got pluck, you know that? And, holy crap, you got an earring! Isn't that some shi—"

"Sinbad," said Sarah calmly. "You'll have to clean up your language as long as you're under my roof."  
"My bad," said Sinbad, winking at Jim. Jim looked away.

"You got a girlfriend, son?" Sinbad demanded.  
Jim looked back at Sinbad, a challenge in his eyes. "Do _you_?"

"Just as I thought!" Sinbad laughed mockingly. "You don't have the _guts_ to ask a girl out."  
_Guts_? "Says the man who walked out on his family," Jim shot back.

Sinbad smiled, but it wasn't a cheerful smile. There was anger to it. Sarah gestured to Sinbad. "Can you go wait in that room? I have to talk to Jim. Privately."  
Sinbad scooted out of the kitchen.

Sarah grabbed Jim's arm. "Don't you _dare_ make him angry, Jim. I want you to be good to that man for as long as he is staying here. Be _polite_."

"Like hell I will."  
Sarah rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "_Stop_ the innappropriate language."

"It's his fault. He has no right to poke around in my sh—"

"_James Pleiades Hawkins_. I said _enough_ of the foul language."

She held a note of warning in her voice, and Jim shut up.

"Go to your room." Sarah's voice was even, controlled. "You are to stay there until Ariel is here. Then only you may come down. You must ask my permission to go out, and to come downstairs for the time being."  
"You can't—why?!"  
Sarah closed her eyes. "Because I say so."  
Jim began to clomp up the stairs. "While I'm at it, why don't I ask you for permission to breathe too."

Jim didn't look back.

Sarah assumed it was because he was angry.

But it was because Jim couldn't bear to see her face for fear of the guilt that would attack him soon afterward.

* * *

He woke when he heard a crash.

It was around 6 in the evening, and totally panicked, Jim got out of bed, opening his door. Forgetting his promise to stay upstairs unless she said so, he ran downstairs. "Mom?" he called.

There was no reply, but there was another crash.

"_Mom_!" Jim yelled at the top of his lungs.

He ran into the dining room to find his mother on the floor, a cabinet knocked over, a dent in the side, several plates broken.

"What the hell?!" Also forgetting his mother's warning about the foul language, Jim raced to his mom's side. "Did you fall?"  
Wincing, Sarah sat up slowly. Jim saw a bruise under her eye, at the top part of her cheek. Jim ran his fingers over it, and Sarah bit her lip, sustaining a cry of pain.

Jim stood up. "That bas—"

"You promised, Jim. Nothing stupid, no foul language!" Sarah cried on the ground.

Jim pulled her to her feet, and she put a hand on her thighs. "Ouch."  
"Where is he?"  
"Jim—"  
"Where did that sonofa—"

"Right here."

Sinbad stood up, holding a bottle of whiskey. He had only drunk some, but his steps were staggered.

"Come on, Sarah, let's dance again," Sinbad drawled, pushing Sarah up against the wall, his arm under her throat. Sarah's face turned red, then slowly blue as Jim realized she was being choked to death right before his eyes.

"DON'T TOUCH HER!" Jim shoved Sinbad hard. He fell and rolled over the cabinet.

Sinbad stood up. "Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can't do? Don't you touch me, you little nothing! I can get you sent to juvenile hall like I _always wanted to_!"

"I don't give a crap about anything you say!" Jim shouted. "All I'm gonna tell you is, you touch my mom again, you're gonna wish you never even came back! You understand?"  
"Boy, you can't do anything," Sinbad hissed, grabbing Jim's arms.

Jim pulled away. "I can do whatever I want. This is my home."  
"It was my home first."  
"You _left_! And when you left, it became mine. Mine and Mom's! You no longer belong here, you have no right here. You are pretty much intruding this house. And I can call the cops, they can haul you off to jail. And no one in the world will CARE!" Jim screamed, shoving Sinbad into the wall again. "How could you do this to her? The one person who actually cared about you, and here you are strangling her! If anyone deserves _anything_ it's Mom!"  
"I _own_ you, boy," Sinbad whispered, standing up. "I can murder you. And your mother. No one would know."  
"Don't make promises you can't keep," Jim said in a threatening voice. "Because they'll turn right around and kill you."

Sinbad's voice became very low. "Is that a threat, boy? You threatening me?"  
"If I am, you gonna do something about it?"  
Sinbad pushed Jim to the floor and kicked him in the ribs. Jim grabbed a piece of plate and hurled it at his father.

"Jim, NO!" shrieked Sarah.

It cut Sinbad near the cheek, and he cried out in pain. He began to run out of the dining room. "I'M CALLING THE COPS, BOY! DO YOU HEAR ME? I'M CALLING THE COPS! SARAH! YOUR BOY'S GOING TO JAIL! HE'S A GOOD FOR NOTHING LOSER!"

"I get it from you," Jim retorted. "I wish you weren't my dad."  
He bent down and wrapped his arms around his mother. "You okay?"

Sarah nodded over and over again. "Jim, I want him gone. I want him gone." She began to cry. "I want him gone. He can't be here anymore, Jim. Please, make him leave. I want him gone."  
Jim nodded. "He's gone. I'll kick him out."  
"Don't get hurt.  
"I won't."  
Jim stormed out—just as the doorbell rang.

He opened it to see Ariel standing there. She looked down at her shoes, and then spotted Jim's face.

"Is this a bad time?" she asked. "You look kind of angry."  
"It's fine," Jim snapped. "You coming in?"  
"Actually, I'm in a hurry," Ariel said. "So I wrote it all down on a piece of paper. Please read it, and give it to your mom when done. Okay?"  
Jim nodded. "Okay."  
Ariel flashed him a sexy Triton-girl smile. "I appreciate it, Jim."  
Sinbad appeared behind Jim. "This your girlfriend?"  
Ariel blushed. "You must be Jim's dad! Nice to meet you, sir." She turned to Jim. "You look just like your father."  
Jim glared at Ariel. "No, I don't."  
Ariel blinked, confused. "Okay, you don't."  
"This your girlfriend?" Sinbad asked again.

"_No_," Jim said, through gritted teeth. "Ariel is a waittress. She works with me. At the Benbow."  
Sinbad smiled at her. Jim gritted his teeth again. "Please just go, Ariel. I'll see you tomorrow at school."

Ariel turned around, still confused. "Okay, Jim. I'll…see you tomorrow. Read the letter."  
Suddenly, in one swift movement, Sinbad snatched the letter. "What's this, some kind of love letter? The freaking outpouring of her heart? Let's see, Jimmy."  
"_Dad_, no!" Jim reached for it, and Ariel gasped as she turned.

Sinbad cleared his throat, holding it out of Jim's reach. " 'Dear Jim and Mrs. Hawkins,'" he read in a falsetto. " 'I know it is of _very_ short notice, asking for a pay raise. But it's a family emergency, and I'm sure you will understand when I tell you. See, to put it in the most _civilized _words possible, my sister is…_pregnant_ right now, and would like to move to a different location somewhere in the city so she can live separate from our family with her boyfriend. The extra money is to fund her new home.' Well, isn't that just peachy! Underage pregnancies are just _fun_!"

Ariel looked horrified, and Jim saw she was almost crying.

Jim shook his head. "Ariel. I'm so sorry. He's so…he's such a—"

"See you tomorrow," whispered Ariel, and fled.

Jim snatched back the letter, and murmured, "Go to hell," in his father's direction, but he was too busy walking down the street away from the Benbow, as if he had never come to visit.

* * *

_Bingo._

_-Rhimes_

The sargeants searched.

And they searched.

They searched the Triton girls' home.

The Tremaine house.

The Saint, Vitani Damigo's father's bar.

The Snuggly Duckling.

And last but not least—taking Pan's warning—the Benbow.

Rhimes was sitting at his desk in the New York City Police Department Office, smoking a cigarette, crumbling a pack of Royal Gold pretzels, when Deputy Leonard Robinson came in.

"Officer?" he whispered.

Rhimes raised his head.

"We found it."  
Rhimes got up and ran to Deputy Robinson. "You _did_? Where _was_ it? Who stole it?"  
"We found it at the Benbow, sir."

Rhimes gasped. "So that means…."  
"Yes, sir. The Crystal Thief is—"

Rhimes smiled, but it most defenitely was not a good one.  
"Jim Hawkins."


	14. Injuries and Romances

**Hey, y'll! New chapter is finally up! TGIF! This has some tension, and beware the CLIFFHANGER! But I'll be updating again this weekend, I PROMISE! So stay tuned! Have a great weekend!  
Keep reading and reviewing! **

**Peace out from Crystal! **

_I lost, but I feel like I won._

_-Jim_

After his father left, the night seemed dark and starless. His mother went to bed, claiming a migraine.

Jim grabbed a piece of paper out of the printer and hastily wrote:

_Gone to the supermarket to buy stuff_.

He wasn't even going to the supermarket. He just wanted to walk around and try and think of what the heck he was going to do with his life right now.

Half of him wanted his father to stay and be his hero, like he always was, half of him wanted to murder his father and hide the body.

Jim walked down the street carefully under the stars, covered by a thin veil of gray clouds against the indigo sky, that seemed a gorgeous bruisy purple-black which couldn't compare to the horror Jim felt inside.

As he walked, he felt someone watching him from the graffitied brick walls. Hands in his jacket pockets, Jim whirled around to stare into Gaston Abinford's sky blue eyes.

Gaston laughed. "You're such a freaking scaredy cat, Hawkins. You nearly crapped your pants."  
Jim sighed, relieved that it was Gaston, though his friend was a huge asshole. Jim forced a smile. "Why are you following me?"  
"I saw you leave your house," Gaston explained. "Didn't know where you were going. Wanted to know if I could scare you…and the answer was yes."  
Jim held up his hands. "You got me, Gaston."  
Gaston smiled. "I thought so, Hawkins. Also, I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to have a little fun with the chicks near Bronson."  
Jim raised his eyebrows. "The stripper bar?"  
Gaston shrugged. "Yeah. Care to join me?"  
Jim began to walk with Gaston under the dim streetlights of Joaquin Street, heading towards Bronson. "What's the actual reason you flirt in front of Bronson's?" Jim wanted to know. "Any special girl there?"  
Gaston laughed. "Naw, man. You know all the girls are special to me. I love every single one I see."  
"Yeah, that's a nice poem."  
Gaston smiled. "Alright man. There's this _one_ girl that's more special than the others. But she's mad young. But she's pretty. And it's gonna be totally stunning. You're actually gonna laugh, believe me."  
Jim shook his head. "I won't laugh. I've dated some pretty crazy girls in my life."  
Gaston scratched the back of head, staring up into the moth-covered streetlight. "I dunno, man."  
Jim shoved his hands in his pockets. "You scared, man? You scared to talk to me? Tell me. I won't make fun of you."  
Gaston didn't say a word. He finally looked at Jim. "I'm crazy about her, Hawkins. I am in love with her. Every inch of her. Every time I see her, I want to grab her and make out with her, and it's _insane_. But I just suck at expressing that. What I do to her—it's not regret."  
Jim stared. "I don't understand, Gaston. What did you do to her?"  
Gaston shook his head. "Tomorrow. When she walked home. I was gonna—bring her to my car. Kiss her. I just wanted to—"

"No, I mean, do we _know her_?" Jim was getting a horrible feeling in his stomach. He was feeling _afraid_.

Gaston cocked his head. "Why? What's it to _you_?"  
"Who is it?" Jim demanded.

Gaston narrowed his eyes and brought his face close to Jim. "I wasn't supposed to tell you about kissing thing. I don't want you to freak out and call the cops, Hawkins."  
"I'm not a snitch. I don't call the cops."

"You only get caught by them," Gaston snickered. "By the way, did you get in on Attina Triton's new dress? Ohhh, she was _fine_."  
Jim cracked his knuckles. "Don't change the subject, Gaston. Who do you like?"  
Gaston gave Jim a tiny laugh, but not a good one in any way. "I like Darling."  
Jim felt like he was going blind. He pretended he didn't understand. "Who's that?"  
"Ohhhh, holy mother of—" Gaston looked pretty pissed off now. "You seriously don't understand? I'm doing my best here, Hawkins, to give you hints. She's smart, hangs with that Dani girl."  
"What Dani girl?"  
Gaston leered back against the brick wall and let out a huff of air. "Why don't you just shut the hell up? I'm not telling you."  
"Tell me her name."  
Gaston was silent.

Jim sucked in air. "Please, Gaston."  
"WHY?" he yelled. "Why are you so insistent on knowing? You going out with this girl or something?"  
Jim didn't say anything.

Gaston stood up. "Wendy. Wendy Darling. Are you happy? I like her. And she's off-limits for you. She's _mine_."  
Anger filled Jim like a wave. "She's nobody's. You can't control her; she belongs to herself. Gaston, keep your hands off her."  
Gaston's eyes slitted and became narrow and upset. He shoved Jim, hard, into the wall. "_Keep my hands off her? _I just told you, she's _mine_, and I'll do whatever I like to her. _You _keep away from her, and you won't get hurt, understand?"  
"No, Gaston, _you _don't understand," Jim snarled. "You don't know me like _I _know me. When I say something, I mean it. And I mean what I'm saying now: Keep your hands off Wendy. If you hurt her, I swear to God, you're finished."  
"Your threats are empty, Jim Hawkins," Gaston laughed. "You can't do nothin.' You're too afraid of me. I'm your master. You take orders from _me_."  
This was too much for Jim. He pushed Gaston, imagining his father in his place, and the power that surged through his hands was a huge overdose. Gaston fell against the brick wall, hard, and his wrist twisted. He cried out.

Jim began to run.

"Hawkins, wait!" he heard Gaston yelling. "Hawkins, my arm! It's broken! Come back! I need _help_!"

Jim shut his eyes and ran on. He knew where Wendy lived; he had driven her there. Beddington Lane or something. And the number: 23. He remembered it, remembered it, remembered it. Old and pretty and big with white shingles and dark blue shutters, and stone balconies outside three bedrooms on the top floor, with an attic with a triangular window outlined with brown wood.

Before anything could happen, quick as a flash, Gaston was on top of Jim.

Punching, kicking, scratching. Hitting hard. Jim felt blinding splashes ruin his line of vision.

Jim looked up and saw Gaston on top of him.

Jim reached out and did the one thing he could do. He grabbed Gaston's already twisted wrist and twisted it more, while bending his thick fingers back.

Gaston cried out, and Jim kicked him in the balls, knocking him off of his stomach, dislodging Gaston's knees from his ribcage.

Jim got up and began to run faster and faster. He was one with the wind.

He ran so fast he couldn't feel his feet hitting the ground.

He collapsed at last in front of Wendy Darling's house on Beddington Lane. In the smoothly cut front lawn he collapsed, feeling himself bruised, bloody, and broken.

A grotesque image of him popped into his own mind, and he tried to stave off the awful possibilities of his mom carrying a bottle of rubbing alcohol and swiping his cuts.

Stifling a cry of pain, Jim limped towards Wendy's house, not knowing where else to go, and to tell her to report Gaston and his car-then-kiss plan with Wendy.

He couldn't bring himself to knock on the door, looking like a tattered ruined hobo, so he limped around the back, seeing a tree blocking Wendy's window.

His one hope lost, Jim looked around for a ladder, but saw none.

As he continued to stare at the twisted willow tree, he figured out how he could use it to his advantage.

* * *

_He was so stupid, gullible, rebellious and disobedient. He was everything that I was not, and I loved it too much to describe._

_-Wendy_

Wendy woke with the tapping on her window.

She first suspected the branches of the twisted willow tree; rapping the glass in the wind as it usually did. She had learned to ignore it.

But the tapping became more and more insistent, and annoyed, Wendy decided to snap that pesky branch off and let it drop to the ground where it couldn't trouble her anymore.

She climbed out of bed in a light blue spaghetti strap shirt and white cotton shorts.

She climbed onto her cushioned window seat and opened the window, walking out onto her stone balcony, yawning and barely seeing.

"Wendy," hissed a voice.

Wendy looked down—and saw a boy clinging to the willow branch. His face was unrecognizable in the dark. Wendy screamed and staggered back. Her dad was home, asleep; John and Michael were also asleep. Should she call the cops?  
Wendy began to crawl on her hands and knees back inside her room.

"Wait! Wendy, it's me, Jim. Help me up!"  
Wendy leaned over the edge. "Why are you here, Jim? Is everything okay?"  
"I need to tell you something. Help me out of this tree!"  
Wendy reached down and pulled Jim over the balcony. "Come inside," she invited formally.

As he obliged, she realized he was limping.

"Let me turn on the light," Wendy suggested, reaching for her lamp.

"No, don't!" Jim reached for her hands to pull them away, but Wendy had already switched the lamp on. And she gasped. "Oh, my God! _Jim_!"

She rushed to him, kneeling down in front of him.

He turned his head away. "Don't, Wendy."  
"You're hurt!" Wendy leaned forward and ran her fingernails gently over small bruise on his left temple. Jim winced. "Okay, ow."  
"Sorry!" Wendy bit her lip. "You need an ice pack. And some ointment. I'll go get it."

* * *

A few minutes later, Jim had begged Wendy to turn off the light as not to attract attention, and she had did so.

Jim was sitting on the windowseat, holding an ice pack to various bruises on his body, and Wendy was sitting in her royal purple swivel chair, shaking her head over and over again. "Who did this to you?"  
Jim looked out the window. "I told you, you don't need to know."  
Wendy narrowed her eyes. "Well, then tell me what you came to tell me."  
"It's Gaston."  
Wendy buried her face into her hands. "What about him?"  
Grunting, Jim turned to face Wendy. "Tomorrow, when you walked home from school, he was going to force you into his car and make out with you. He's in _love_ with you."  
Wendy's mouth fell open. And suddenly, Jim saw tears sliding down her cheeks. "You're…you're _lying_!" she sputtered. "He doesn't love me, he—" She trailed off, her words tangled up in her snot and saliva and tears.

Jim sighed. "Wendy, stop crying."  
Wendy leaned back, let the tears keep coming. "Like, hasn't he hurt me _enough_? Every day, through high school. He makes my life a living hell and then claims he's in love with me?" A fresh round of tears stained her pink cheeks.

"Oh, God." Jim looked at Wendy, frustrated. "Wendy, come on, shut up. I hate when girls cry. I have no idea what to do. I—" He ran a hand through his hair.

Wendy glared at him. "I'm going to bed. You can get the hell out of my room now."  
Jim threw his arms in the air. "Don't tell me you're _mad_. At me?"  
"Get _out_!" Wendy threw a framed photograph at him from her bedside table and dove into bed, covered herself up to her shoulders with a dotted blanket.

The photograph hit him in the shoulder. "Ouch." Jim grunted and bent down to pick it up. "This lady," he said softly. "She looks like you."

There was a long pause from Wendy, then finally, a whisper of a word: "Mother."  
"Huh?"  
"She's my mother."

Jim nodded. "Oh. She's pretty—like you."  
No response from Wendy. Only a weak sniffle. Jim put the framed photograph on the bedside table and went to sit next to Wendy.

"Hey. Wendy."  
"Go away."  
"Could you just talk to me?"  
Silence.

"Please?"  
Wendy looked up, her face stained with tears. "Well, about what?" Her nose was stuffy.

Jim reached down and took her hands. "Sit up."  
Wendy sat up.

Jim used the palms of his hands to dry her face. "Now smile."  
"What the hell?!"  
"_Just trust me_."  
Wendy gave him a tiny smile. "Jim, I'm trying to be mad."

Jim laughed. "Well, too bad. I'm not letting you." His face became serious. "You don't belong to Gaston."  
"No, I don't. I belong to myself."  
Jim nodded. Suddenly, the most unbelievable thing happened. Something that made Jim turn red and made him feel wonderful all over.

Wendy sprang forward, and their lips touched.

The most unlikely pair; Jim Hawkins and Wendy Darling.

They were kissing.


	15. Unlikely Bonds and Future Hopes

**Hiya peeps! Crystal here! I'm really happy with how the reviews and all are going with this story. Thank you to everyone that favorited, followed, reviewed, and PMed me about this story. **

**Okay, you guys, I honestly hate to ask for reviews, because I sound desperate. But reviews means motivation for me to move on with the story. So please review if you can. **

**Every single review, favorite or follow I get in my email makes my day. **

**Thank you to: **

**Avril Lambert, Sultal, and NarikoTheShadow for reviewing! Thank you, sultal, for your encouraging PMs, and NarikoTheShadow for the extra encouragement. **

**And Avril Lambert: thank you SOOOO MUCH for reviewing for every single chapter! I'm looking forward to reading your new fanfic. Oh, and Dani Spark is just an OC. But she's loosely based on one of my cousins. **

**Also, thank you to all the others that reviewed that I did not thank yet: **

**Skinnydip Queen **

**Ariana Grande **

**ALIVEANDFREE-Yeah, lingerie is a British word, but I thought it would perfectly fit what you would imagine Jasmine wearing 24/7.**

**Kieran-thanks gurrl and can't wait for Spring Break!**

**Insomniac-thanks for reviewing for every single chapter!**

**RoyalsByLorde: Hey, love that song! And you reviewed for Midnight too. I remember. Thx for the support hon!**

**Ratchetkay: Your review made my day. **

**Winkster: Yeah, this is JimXWendy. And I had a lot of fight scenes in Last Dance. I'll try to fit some in here as well. Glad you enjoyed. **

**Wurly Bird**

**Enjoy the chapter, you guys! BTW, just a sidenote, this chapter explains a HECK OF A LOT about Gaston Abinford. **

* * *

_Gaston isn't that bad—once you get to know him. And if he still seems bad to you, you still don't know him._

_-Jim_

Jim just stared in shock at Wendy.

She quickly pulled away, staring at Jim. Her lips had been on his for a fraction of a second, and in the dark he knew her face was burning. His was too. He barely had time to think and react as Wendy's hand flew to her mouth, as if to ask herself if she had really kissed Jim right there.

"Sorry," she muttered and scrambled off the bed, walking to the window. Glancing quickly at Jim's face, she turned to face the window.

Jim just sat on the bed, staring at the wall for a while, backtracking a few seconds ago to when Wendy's lips had stayed on his. She had kissed him.

Jim finally got out of bed and stood behind Wendy, touching her shoulder lightly with his hand.

Wendy jumped, then turned, a little surprised. "I'm really sorry, Jim," she whispered. "I don't know why I—"

Jim cut her off. "It's okay." He leaned forward and kissed her gently. Wendy's eyes widened, but she sat blankly, not kissing back.

Jim pulled away. "What's the matter? I thought you wanted to."  
Wendy shook her head. "I thought _you _didn't want to."  
Jim gave her a tiny smile. "I just kissed you, didn't I? Would I have done that if I didn't want to?"

Without a single response, Wendy leaned forward and pressed her lips onto Jim's. For a while, it was just the little moans they made as they kissed, and Jim twisted Wendy against the wall, holding her in place with his muscled arms. She smiled through the kiss, and Jim tugged eagerly at her lips. Wendy shoved him away, laughing, and ran to the bed. Jim caught her by the waist and she lay on the bed as he leaned over her, kissing downwards. She pushed the heels of her hands into his collarbone. Jim traced the outline of Wendy's full lips with his tongue. They tasted of strawberries and desire.

At last, Wendy turned her head to the side, and Jim flopped next to her, both of them panting. Wendy fell off the bed onto the carpet. Jim leaned over the edge of her bed, letting his fingers skim the side of her face. "You okay?"  
Wendy nodded, breathless, rolling onto her back. "I'm fine." She got to her feet and crawled into Jim's lap, pulling the covers around them with a little exhale, resting her head on Jim's shoulder.

She wrapped her arms tightly around Jim's' middle. "You know, I didn't actually know."  
Jim rested his chin on the top of Wendy's hair. "Didn't know what?"  
"That you cared."  
Confused, Jim looked down at her. "About what?"  
"About _anything_."  
Jim sighed. "I guess I rub off as a little depressing, huh?"

Wendy shook her head rapidly. "No, no. I mean, yeah, but it seems like you don't care about anything or anyone, and you'll just roll with the punches, take what comes along."  
Jim rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's me. Mr. Don't Care About Anyone."  
"You ever had a girlfriend before?"  
Jim looked at Wendy. "Yeah."

"Did you care about her?"

Jim scratched the back of his head. "Can we change the subject? I'm not comfortable with—"

"Did you?" Wendy became insistent.

Jim frowned. "Wendy, stop it. I care. About you."

Wendy smiled and ran her fingertips over his sleek jawline. "_Show me _you care. Prove it to me."

"You don't believe me." Jim gave her a sad sort of smile.

Wendy's smile faded. "Please don't be mad. Of course I believe you."  
Jim pecked her on the mouth. "I'll prove it, Wen. Now let's talk about something else."

Wendy nodded. "Gaston."  
Once again, Jim was taken aback. "Huh?"  
"He beat you up. Right?"  
Jim looked up at the ceiling.

"How did you end up being friends with a jackass like him?"

Jim was still silent. He let his eyes drift down to Wendy's eyes. "It's a long story and it's late."  
Wendy tugged on his shirt collar. "I want to hear it."  
Jim bit his lip, then finally leaned back against the headboard of Wendy's bed. "It was in fifth grade. We had to do this dumb project…"

* * *

"_Okay, kids!" chirped Mrs. Harrigan, the teacher of Jim's fifth grade class. "I'll call each of you, and you will come up and read your special piece."  
Every student was assigned to to write a special piece about his or her father and then read it out loud on Father's Day at school in front of their class. _

_Jim endured ten long painful minutes of:  
"My dad is a doctor!"  
"My dad is a mechanical engineer!"  
"My dad owns a golf course!" _

"_My dad is the president of the school PTO!"  
"How 'bout Ariel?" Mrs. Harrigan asked, gesturing to the sweet girl in the back, wearing a purple t-shirt and green shorts, her fluffy red hair in a cute ponytail. She flounced to the front of the room, carrying a pink piece of paper. _

"_My daddy is a businessman. He goes to faraway exotic places like Australia, Prague, and France. Like last week he went to India and bought me and my sisters gold bracelets."  
Mrs. Harrigan beamed. "Thank you, Ariel! Next, how about Jim?"_

_Jim got up and walked briskly past Ariel without his paper, and stood in the front. Mrs. Harrigan crossed her legs. Too angry to look at her, Jim turned his face sharply to the left side, and stared at the metal doorknob. He opened his mouth, rage making his limbs quake. _

"_I don't have a dad. But dads suck anyway so it doesn't matter."_

_Jim walked back to his desk and sat down, yanking his chair back so hard it hit the kid sitting behind him. He put his forehead down on the smooth wood of his desk. _

_Time passed, and some more kids went up, prattling about their dads. _

"_Gaston? Gaston Abinford?" asked Mrs. Harrigan, waving at him. _

_Gaston Abinford—the school bully. No one knew anything about his family—or him, for that matter. _

_Jim heard his heavy footsteps, and then a long silence. _

_He lifted his head to see what was the matter—and realized Gaston was looking directly at him. _

_Then suddenly Gaston turned his head sharply to the left side, copying Jim, and spoke in a monotone: "I don't have a dad either. And nobody in this town needs one anyway. 'Cuz they SUCK."_

_Shocked, Mrs. Harrigan stood. "Mr. Abinford and Mr. Hawkins, get out of my classroom. You won't be participating in our Father's Day activities today."  
"I don't care!" Gaston said bravely. "You and the people who invented Father's Day can go to hell!" _

_Two minutes later, they were both sitting outside on the floor, the closed room seperating them from their peers like a great wall. _

_Gaston nudged Jim's arm. "Did your dad die?"  
Jim shook his head. "Just left."  
Gaston nodded slowly. "Mine too. Do you hate yours?"  
Jim considered it for a while, then nodded. "Yeah."  
And from that very moment, the two of them were inseperable. Their strong friendship had continued into high school. _

* * *

"He's not such a jerk," Jim whispered. "If you just get to know him."

Wendy just stared at Jim for a long time. "I didn't know your dad left, Jim. Well, I knew he was _gone_. But I didn't know—"

"I don't tell anyone," Jim said quietly. "And for the record, I wasn't Mr. Depressed before my dad left."  
"Did he ever come back?" asked Wendy.

Jim was silent for a long time. "No," he said at last. "Let's just go to sleep."  
Wendy touched Jim's face gently. "Oh, Jim, I'm so—"

"Don't say sorry," Jim growled. "I sure as hell don't need anybody feeling sorry for me. Go to sleep." Jim pushed Wendy off his lap and laid down, facing away from her.

"Jim—"

"Go to sleep."  
Wendy touched his arm.

Jim's voice shook. "Please."  
Quietly, Wendy laid down and closed her eyes.

But neither of them slept.

* * *

_I wish she would listen for once in her life._

_-Ariel_

Ariel walked into The Lucinda, a cute little café, and looked around. Arista had sent her a text about a half hour ago asking her to meet her in the Lucinda.

"Ariel!" The blonde haired girl appeared to be just fat, from a distance away. But from closer, you could see that the "fatness" was not belly weight at all, and the round shape of her stomach was pronounced and defined carefully. It was clear she was pregnant.

Ariel had about 200 dollars saved up in jars in her room, and combined with Arista's money as well as some stolen from their father's wallet, it should be enough to buy off a cheap NYC apartment as well as pay off the first month's mortgage.

Ariel settled down in a seat across from Arista, but noticed there was a sleek brown bag on a third chair. Ariel jerked her chin at the chair. "Who's is that?"  
Arista blushed. "Robbie's."

Suddenly, a cute boy with big nerdy wire-rimmed glasses and a black crop of hair wearing a casual suit settled down in the chair next to Arista. He gave Ariel a big smile. "Hi! I'm Robbie Frayman, you must be Ariel. Arista's told me so much about you."  
Ariel gave him a teensy weensy smile. "Likewise."

Inwardly, she glared at Arista. "Now, Arista," she began. "You know there's the future to discuss."  
"Robbie's pitching in a share of his money. We can easily buy the apartment."  
"Aside that," Ariel said, facepalming. "What about the baby? If you actually decide to have the baby, who will take care of it? You're about to graduate, Arista. You had dreams. Go to college, get a good education, and a good job. You realize you'll have to drop out of school due to this _pregnancy_?"  
Arista glowered. "We can hire a nanny, right, Robbie?"  
Robbie nodded. "My cousin's best friend Linnea is a good nanny. She has kids of her own, and she lives in the city. I already spoke to my cousin. Her name is Mimi. I can give you her number if you want—"

"Oh, Robbie, no. I don't want your cousin's number." Ariel shook her head. "I want Arista to get an abortion."  
It had come out so suddenly, and Robbie and Arista were staring at her now.

"An abortion?" Robbie whispered. "Ariel, she has the baby growing inside her. It would be _murder _to kill it now."  
"Oh, please!" Ariel cried. "I'm trying to look out for Arista! She may be all grown up and ready to be a serious girlfriend with you, Robbie, but she's still my sister first."

Robbie gasped. "I didn't say she wasn't, Ariel. I just want us to have a baby—"

"Only when you're GOOD and READY!" Ariel almost roared. "Think about how inconvenient this would be." She looked to Arista, her eyes pleading. "I'm telling you for your own good."  
With an angry smirk, Arista pushed away from the table. "I thought you'd understand. But, God, I was wrong."  
Ariel stared after her retreating sister, and left the Lucinda.

Halfway home, she was crying so hard, the streets danced blurrily right before her eyes.

* * *

**Hey you guys! Happy Sunday, huh? And oh, yeah. It's Monday tomorrow. School and all that crap is gonna delay my writing again. **

**I had a fun backstory in this chapter, hope you liked it. Just came up with it last night while thinking about how me and MY best friend met. **

**Have an awesome week! Ttyl till next weekend—or hopefully before that! **


	16. Free Days and Hell's Gates

**Hi people! How's all your lives going? I hope awesome! I just want to take the moment now to thank every single person who has read, reviewed, favorited, or followed. **

**And I want to give a SPECIAL thank you to TheLonelyMonstersCompanion, who favorited me AND my story, and followed me AND my story. So thank you! **

**Okay. Up next, I'm going to go over a VERY IMPORTANT NOTE. **

**I've recently gotten quite a few PMs and comments asking why this is not a Jim/Ariel fic. I CAN see how it would appear that way, because of Eric's breakup with Ariel. But this breakup really had no significant meaning, other than to show that Eric speaks his mind, and to let you readers know that Ariel has a lot on her plate right now. Next, if you check out my profile, you'll see that I have already written a few Treasure Planet/Little Mermaid fanfics. I made The Crystal Thief a Jim/Wendy because I wanted to experiment, try something new. **

**Next up: People are confused about the characters. I understand what you mean. I might not have written this clearly, or maybe it's just confusing in general. I'm here right now to explain it to you. Gaston is meant to be a villain to Wendy, because he bullies her. But to Jim, it's a totally different story. Because they have been friends—the backstory!—since fifth grade and he thinks of Gaston differently than Wendy. I think this quote should give you a better picture: "Gaston isn't that bad—once you get to know him. And if he still feels bad to you, you still don't know him." **

**None of this was a scheme meant to confuse any readers, and I'm truly sorry if it did. **

**If you have any questions or anything, PM me. I'll be happy to explain; I understand this story can be a little confusing. **

**Reply to Comments: **

**OkamiEyes: I sent you a reply to your review through a PM. Hope you got it. In this chapter, the whole Jim/Ariel/dad thing will be covered, I promise. **

**THANKS FOR REVIEWING, YOU GUYS! **

**You Know Who**

**A Thousand Miles**

**Lucky Friday**

**Sultal **

**TheLonelyMonstersCompanion **

**Enough rambling. Let's get on with the chapter! ENJOY, my awesome readers! **

* * *

_People point fingers at Jim and say, "He did it." They don't know him like I do. _

_-Wendy_

School was canceled, because the Agents were searching through the premises in an attempt to try and find evidence. Apparently, they had a main suspect, and they were trying to figure out evidence that they could use to pin the blame on him or her.

Praying to God it wasn't Dani or Jim or anyone she knew, Wendy woke Jim up with a kiss.

"School's canceled," she said to the sleepy-eyed boy lying next to her. "How do you want to spend our day?"

* * *

They spent the entire day at Heidi Cogsworth Park, across the street from the Benbow. Jim and Wendy laughed over Dani drawing Jim and the crooked B and Wendy hitting Gaston in the head with her purse the night of the party, and how Jim "kidnapped" Wendy in order to drive her home.

In other words, they laughed about worthless things just to keep their minds off the searching Agents and how they might deliver a verdict soon.

Wendy sat in Jim's lap, her lips drifting over his, kissing him softly like butterfly wings on his lips. Jim smiled. "You can do better than that."

Wendy smiled, too. "I can, but I don't want to hurt you, weakling."  
Jim fake-gasped and pushed her down into the grass, lying over her, pinning her down. Wendy struggled for a moment, then giggled, breathless. "Let me up!"

"Not until you apologize for calling me a weakling. And then say you love me."  
Wendy's eyes laughed. "I love you. But I won't apologize!"  
Jim tickled her, and she began to laugh so hard, tears ran out of the corners of her eyes.

"Hey, isn't that Mr. Sexy Waiter?"

That was a familiar voice. Jim turned around abruptly, rolling off of Wendy.

"What's he doing with that little girl?"  
Jim got onto his knees. Wendy shielded her eyes from the sun, glaring at the group of girls hovering by the entrance of the park. One of the girls, with brown hair piled on top of her head and fixed with neon orange oversize sunglasses, was walking a little white chihuahua wearing a diamond collar. The girl with black hair in a ponytail leaned over to whisper something into a blonde one's ear. That girl giggled.

"The Triton girls?" asked Wendy.

Jim nodded and sat back, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his elbows on them, rolling up the sleeves of his adorable checkered shirt.

The girl with the black ponytail pushed her purple glasses up over her hair and strode confidently into the park. She waved frantically. "Hey, Mr. Sexy Waiter!" She turned to the only redhead in the group, who was wearing her hair loose and wavy, with a seashell shaped clip holding back her bangs from her gorgeous face. "Ariel," she called. "What's this kid's name?"  
"Jim." Ariel looked at the two of them.

Alana started forward, and suddenly Ariel reached out and grabbed Alana's arm tightly. "_Don't_," Wendy heard her hiss. "They want to be alone, obviously."  
"Why would he want _her_ when he could have me?" Alana pursed her lips.

Wendy bristled, narrowing her eyes. Jim must have sensed her discomfort, because he scooted over and wrapped his arm around her shoulders casually to prove to Alana what was happening.

Alana stepped back, but Ariel walked up to them. She smiled at Wendy, but not cruelly. A kind smile. "Hi, Wendy. Hi, Jim."  
Wendy gave Ariel a tiny smile. "Hey, Ariel."  
Jim jumped to his feet though, grabbing Ariel's arm. "Ariel, I'm _so sorry_ about last night. With my dad and all."  
Ariel forced a smile and hiked up her tiny white shorts. "It's fine. He was drunk, obviously."

Jim nodded. "It won't happen again."  
Wendy frowned. "Wait, your dad came back?"  
Jim held up a hand to silence her. "I read your note, and gave it to my mom last night before she slept. She read it and agreed to the pay raise. She understands what you're in right now."  
Ariel let out a sigh of relief and beamed at the pair of them. "That's a_ huuuuge _relief. Tell her thanks!" She started to walk out of the park and turned slowly. "You two enjoy yourselves," she said, and waggled her fingers in that Triton Girls way.

Jim smiled and sat next to Wendy again.

Wendy nudged him. "What happened yesterday?"  
Jim shrugged. "My dad came home. Just to visit."  
"He's gone now? He didn't even stay overnight?"  
"Nah," said Jim, shrugging it off again and lying in the grass, arms behind his head. "He's always been a traveler. He was born to move around, not to stay in one place."  
"Are you like that?"  
Jim hated Wendy's probing questions, but it showed her intelligence and her curious mind. He looked at her. "I won't leave you," he said seriously. "I won't walk out on you like he did. I promise."

Wendy smiled and laid down next to him. Her life was just perfect now. Wendy rolled over onto her stomach and twirled Jim's ponytail between her fingers. "But what if you _had_ to leave. For some reason. Say, the army."  
Jim raised his eyebrows.

Wendy rolled her eyes innocently. "Just a scenario, Jim. Say you were forced to leave."

Jim looked seriously at Wendy. "I'd just want you to stay safe—no matter what happened to me."  
Wendy just smiled and laid back down. "Thanks."  
"For what?"  
"For being you."  
Jim laughed. "Okay, you're welcome." He was silent for a while, then he grabbed Wendy's hand tightly, interlocking their fingers. "Just think—tomorrow we'll know who stole the Crystal. Who caused all the commotion, who stole the princess's jewel just to give a bunch of cops a scare."  
Wendy nodded. "I know. I'd like to whack _them_ with my waterbottle."  
Jim and Wendy both burst out laughing again, but it was nervous laughter this time, like they hid secrets in the parts of their brains where the nightmares and bad thoughts hid.

* * *

_I can't think anymore. I can't feel. It's like my body is here and my mind and soul elsewhere._

_-Kida_

Kida lay in bed, her white hair spread like a cloud around here. Mr. Clayton paced outside her bedroom door. Roseanne, one of her maids, built up a fire. Another maid, Julisa, wrapped her in another fleecy blanket supplied by Mr. Clayton's funds.

Kida reached up with her icy hand to feel the bare patch of neck where her Crystal once lay. And now it was gone.

Suddenly, Kida's body convulsed. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her skin grew paler.

"Princess, princess!" Roseanne, Julisa, and many of her other maids tried to revive her. They ran out to alert King Kashekim, Mr. Clayton, and the physician, Dr. Joshua Sweet, but Kida was about half-dead and in a coma; she wouldn't wake.

Kashekim let out a great cry an collapsed into a chair, tears coming out of his eyes. Mr. Clayton stood, awestruck. The maids stood like statues, hands over their mouths. Dr. Sweet tried CPR. Kida would not wake.

The door banged open. The small crowd turned quickly to see a man, almost seven feet tall, filling the doorway entirely. He wore a long black garment that swirled around him, almost like acrid smoke, filling the entire room with a pungent smell. His skin had a bluish tint, and his face was long, with a dimpled chin. But the most extraordinary fact about this man, was that he had blue flames for hair. Dancing along the baldness of his bluish head.

"Excuse me," demanded Dr. Sweet. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

The man smiled, showing off pointy teeth. "Please, forgive me for intruding. But I see there is someone dying."

Mr. Clayton frowned. "Strangers are not invited into the Princess's room today. Please leave. How did you get in? Did Eudora Baker let you in?"  
"I entered by myself, Clayton," said the man, sweeping in. "If I may introduce myself. I'm pretty sure some of you know me. Right?"  
Nobody uttered a single word.

"But, yes, some of you do." The man swept to a shaking Roseanne and touched her arm with his spindly fingers. "You used to have dreams about me. When you were a little girl. Remember? Hell man?"  
Roseanne let out a little cry and backed away.

The man smiled. "I still invoke fear in you after all these years, Roseanne."  
"Get away from her!" Mr. Clayton yelled. "How do you know Roseanne? And _my name_, for that matter? Who are you?"  
The man crossed his arms over his substantial chest. "I'm Hades. Lord of the Dead. Really nice to meet all of you. And I know when someone is dying. Because when someone is dying, I'm there. Automatically. It just makes my day when someone dies."  
"Kidagakash is not dying," snapped King Kashekim. "Don't you dare saying she is. She is weakened by—"

"The loss of her Crystal. I know." Hades nodded calmly. "And they found the Crystal. In a minor's house. Behind his chest of drawers."  
Mr. Clayton gasped. "No!"  
"Yes!" Hades laughed. "And they're bringing it back to her. But unfortunately, it's that time of year. Where her soul goes to me."  
King Kashekim shook his head. "Take me instead."  
"It doesn't work that way," Hades said. "I can't. She's pretty much already dead. She can't spend time away from her Crystal. It was gone for too long."  
"So she's dead?" whispered Dr. Sweet.

Hades shrugged. "She belongs to me. Unless someone—other than her father—decides to willingly sacrifice their life to bring her back to the Real World."  
King Kashekim began to cry, as did some of the maids.

Hades looked sympathetic. "Don't be sad, guys," Hades said. "She'll have a blast down in the Underworld with me. It's about time anyway. I mean, her hair is _white_, for heaven's sake! Am right? What is she, ninety? It's her time to go."  
"She's twenty-one!" howled the king.

But Hades had reached out and touched Kida's arm. And just like that, she began to fade.

Kida was gone. King Kashekim just stared at the doorway where Hades had just stood moments ago and thought of his loving daughter who insisted on helping these ungrateful Palefaces.

He just stood there and stared in shock around the room.

Mr. Clayton touched his arm. "If there's anything I can do—"

"Get Rhimes in here."  
Moments later, Officer Rhimes stood in front of King Kashekim.

"You failed to bring me the Crystal in time," the King said finally.

Rhimes bowed his head sincerely. "My apologies. Forgive me."  
"Kidagakash is dead."  
Rhimes blinked, unable to hide his utter surprise. "Pardon?"  
"She's—dead."  
Rhimes bowed low to the floor. "I have failed you."  
"You have."  
Rhimes was a hard man, but he felt sorry for what he had done. "If there's anything I can do, please tell me, King. I will do anything you ask."  
King Kashekim's eyes were hard. "I have a task for you."  
"Yes, King."  
"If you fail me this time, it will be your neck that's being chopped."  
Rhimes swallowed. "Yes, King. What do you want me to do?"  
"Did you find who had stolen the Crystal?"  
"Yes, King."  
"I want him dead. In a matter of _days_. I want his soul to go to Hades. I want him dead. Do you understand me?"  
"We were going to hold off on the death until we found solid evidence. There's still the matter of another individual framing that minor—"

"It doesn't matter about the damn evidence." King Kashekim hissed. "Where did you find the Crystal?"  
"In a minor's room. He's the main suspect."  
King Kashekim leaned forward. "He's _guilty_ now. He's no longer a suspect. He killed my daughter. He's the reason Atlantis now has lost their only heir."  
Rhimes nodded. "Yes, King."  
"He is to die. The boy in whose room the Crystal was found. I don't care about the evidence, do you understand?"  
Rhimes nodded rapidly again. "Yes, King." He turned to go.

"I want it to be _humiliating_. I want his loved ones to see. I want him to die in the middle of the square. With the people of the city watching. He must suffer, do you understand?"  
"Yes." Rhimes turned and left abruptly. He felt sorry for the boy named Jim Hawkins.

* * *

_New guy! _

_-Hades_

"Pain, Panic!" Hades yelled.

The two little monsters rushed to Hades's feet. "Yes, my lord?" they asked in unison.

Hades jerked his chin at a floating ball of light. "Look, see that boy?"  
They saw a boy lying in grass with a pretty girl his age, their fingers locked together. "Yes, my lord," they said, curious to know why Hades was targeting the boy.

Hades smiled. "We're getting a new member of our Dead Society."  
"Is it him?"  
Hades smiled cruelly again. "Oh, yes. It's him. Our rebel, our precious, precious boy. James Hawkins is coming home."

* * *

**I was actually able to sneak in another update this Monday! So yay! That last line gave me the creeps when I typed it in. Again, thanks to all that reviewed, and read. Every favorite/follow or review in my email makes my day! See you guys...hopefully next weekend...or maybe before that if I can. Have an awesome week! :)**


	17. The Signs and the Key

**Hey guys! Thanks to all that reviewed: **

**ChainedPromisesAndBrokenDreams: Thanks! Yes, I'll be sure to include some Ariel/Vanessa/Eric drama.**

**MiAmorEstaAqui: Gracias, amiga! Your comment meant a lot to me!**

**Lalita: Love youuuuuu….And Jim Hawkins also makes me swooon!**

**Unbelievable: Thanks, hon! Yeah, my name is Crystal. I'll be updating soon! Be sure to R&R! **

**CalzonaMerDer: Sweetie, this is so cute. It is one of my fave types of comments when someone says they like Disney OK, and then my story amped up their love for Disney! And…judging by your pen name I'm guessing you're a…Grey's Anatomy fan? OMG, I LOVE Grey's Anatomy! Callie and Arizona, Meredith and Derek…do you like Cristina and Owen? Sorry I'm rambling. It's just that I love watching Grey's Anatomy. **

**Okay, enough of this…let's get on with the chapter! And if u guys would like to see other POVs besides Char, Cindy, Jim, Ariel, Wendy, Peter, and Hades (you know, Belle, Mulan, any other Disney character) put it in a PM or a review. If there are no reviews or anything asking for extra POVs, we'll just stick to our current POVs. Kk? **

**On with the story! (I feel so bad for Arista in this chapter. Stupid sisters!)**

* * *

_I have a feeling this will end up bad…_

_-Ariel_

The clattering noises coming from downstairs woke Ariel up. She rolled over in bed, her red hair falling over, standing out in a scarlet cloud around her face. She peered down at the clock. It read 3:43.

Ariel closed her blue eyes again—only to be awakened by the clattering once again. Sucking in air between her teeth, Ariel pushed herself out of bed; wearing white high-waisted shorts and a blue lace tank top.

Pushing her hair formally behind her ears, she started out into the hallway. She grabbed her iPhone off her dresser, her fingers poised and ready to call 9-1-1 if necessary. Her soft pink socks smothered any footsteps as she tiptoed neatly down the stairs and paused at the French doors leading into the Tritons' enormous kitchen.

Ariel took a deep breath and pushed the door open. A girl with a greasy mop of blonde hair in a messy bun, a white England-schoolgirl nightgown, and red eyeshades dangling around her neck was rumaging around in the Tritons' fridge. Ariel could only stare as she eyed last night's shepherd's pie in the girl's hand.

She looked at the table, and noticed the girl had already set out a cold turkey leg, watermelon slices, a package of Chips Ahoy! and a half-eaten cherry pie.

The girl turned around and let out a little squeak of surprise, almost dropping the shepherd's pie.

"What. In. . . .Doing?!" Ariel hissed. "Have you gone _insane_, Arista?"  
Arista looked sheepishly at Ariel and ate a forkful of pie. "I'm hungry. You want a cookie?"  
Ariel smacked the package away from Arista. "I do _not_ want a cookie!" Ariel grabbed the shepherd's pie and the cold turkey leg and the watermelon slices, sticking them back into the fridge, cramming them in wherever they'd fit. Meridith, the housekeeper, would fix it tomorrow.

Ariel put the cookies away, and grabbed the cherry pie away from Arista. "What's wrong with you? We just had hot dogs for dinner!"  
Arista shrugged, looking close to tears. "I'm really hungry, and I just felt like eating. I'm sorry if I woke you. It's just—" Arista gestured helplessly to her ballooning tummy. "I feel so pressurized, Ariel. And I got a lot on my plate right now." She began to cry.

"Hormones," Ariel said, facepalming and sinking to the table, massaging her temples.

"I'm sorry," Arista choked.

Ariel pulled Arista in for a quick hug. "Calm down, girl," said Ariel with a reassuring smile. "Things will work out, I promise. You're having cravings. All pregnant women do."

"Ariel?" whispered Arista.

Ariel looked up while sticking the cherry pie into the fridge.

"Robbie and I went apartment shopping."  
Ariel hid her surprise and didn't bat an eyelash. "Okay…and?"  
"We picked an apartment. A nice one in the heart of NYC. Close enough to walk. Or take a bus if I'm feeling tired—which I probably will be."  
Ariel's mouth fell open. "Wait…so you'll actually be going to school? With the baby bump visible?"  
Arista shrugged. "I bought a lot of XXL sweaters. From the Men's section. At JCPenney. They'll probably hide the baby bump well."  
Ariel could not believe what she was hearing. She looked at Arista. Smudged mascara, a greasy ugly mop of hair, lips colorless, wearing a schoolgirl's nightgown, wearing MEN'S SWEATERS. XXXL. From JCPenney. Living with a nerd named Robbie in an apartment all alone. In several months going to give birth to a living breathing baby. Her sister.

Was this really the same girl who had a chance at being an Olympic swimmer? Her fun-loving super-ticklish sister? The same girl went on every ride in Rockin' Rapids without barfing once? The same girl who drove her sisters nuts by staying in the bathroom for hours to fix her hair and make sure her figure was exactly right by doing the exact amount of Selana Workouts?

The girl who made sure she had a 100% chance of winning Beauty Pageant Queen and had the most boyfriends in high school so far out of all of them besides Alana, and who had kissed a boy first. Fun-loving out-there gorgeous, talented, awesome, childish, immature, hilarious Arista. She was the _last_ one Ariel thought would be in a committed relationship with someone and ready to have a baby.

"XXXL sweaters," Ariel said vaguely, not making eye contact with Arista. "So you're really gonna carry through with this?"  
"Yeah."  
"The girls will find out soon enough."  
"We just have to make sure they don't."  
Ariel was doubtful. "And if they do?"  
Arista bit her lip. "We'll deny it?"  
"You're a dumb blonde, you know that?" Ariel said playfully, poking Arista's cheek. Then she sighed and walked up the stairs.  
"Where are you going?" Arista called.

"To bed," Ariel responded curtly. "Are you coming?"  
"Wait," said Arista. "I have to finish this pie."

* * *

At breakfast was the second big sign that made Ariel think the other girls knew about Arista's pregnancy.

The Triton girls were eating plain blueberry pancakes without honey or syrup or even butter to try and avoid the extra layer of carbs.

Adella arrived with a tray of Cheesecake Bars. They were this new thing that apparently everyone was eating. They were being made by Tiana Baker in her restaurant, Tiana's Place. Tiana Baker was a senior, and the youngest individual to run a restaurant in NYC. They were supposed to be delicious and make your tastebuds beg for more—according to the wrapper—but they were _carbs_. In the Triton girls' sights.

"Cheesecake Bar?" Adella offered Ariel.

"Nah."  
"Andrina?"  
"Eeeew."  
"Aquata?"  
"No, thanks,"  
"Alana?"  
"Pass."  
"Attina?"  
"Hell to the no."  
"Arista?"  
Usually the Triton girls were very ritualistic. Each day, just for the hell of it, one of the sisters would bring a tray of carb-loaded edibles and the girls would refuse as it was offered. Then they'd read the carb listings on the back, laugh out loud, and leave the tray for their father and Meredith, if she wanted any.

But Arista defied gravity. "Yeah!" she exclaimed, grabbing a cheesecake bar off the tray and peeling the wrapper off.

Adella's mouth dropped open, and she cut a quick glance to Attina, the oldest.

Attina leaned forward. "Uh, Arista. The correct answer is 'No, thanks.'"

Arista ignored her and bit in.

"Uh, girl!" Andrina stood up, hands on her hips. "No offense, but you can't afford any more carbs. Because you're kinda..maybe…sorta…"  
"Fat?" suggested Aquata. "We don't deny here. We're a family, right?"  
Arista's face kind of froze up, and Ariel's cheeks turned bright pink from embarrassment of her snarky sisters. But Arista shrugged. "I'm hungry."  
"Gurrrrl," Alana drawled. "You already had, like, five pancakes already. Isn't that right, Meredith?"  
Meredith turned away, not replying. She was a shy, timid woman who seemed to be afraid of the Triton Girls.

Suddenly, Arista jumped up and raced out of the kitchen into the bathroom.

"It's all those carbs," sniffed Andrina.

Slamming her palms onto the table, Ariel got up and exited sharply as well.

"Okay," she heard Adella declare. "What crawled up _her_ ass?"  
Ariel quickly stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door tightly behind her. Arista was bent over the toilet, throwing up violently.

Ariel closed her eyes and stayed shuddering against the door. She hated the noises, the smell, the tears running down Arista's cheeks. The mocking scorns of her sisters in the kitchen.

Arista stopped throwing up. She wiped her mouth and slowly lifted herself to the edge of the tub, her eyes glassy.

Ariel flipped the fan switch and gingerly closed the toilet lid, flushing it quickly. She sat next to Arista, perching in a graceful birdlike way on the edge of the tub.

"I'm not like them," whispered Arista dazedly. "I know some people call us 'The Triton Girls' behind our backs. I don't want to be known that way. I want to be known as Arista Triton. My own person. I don't want to be grouped with _them_ like we're sticks of gum in a pack."  
Ariel sighed.

"I remember Daddy asking us what we wanted to be when we grew up. You all were like, 'Princesses. Beauty queens. Fairies. Swim champions. Makeup artists. Fashionistas. Models.' I was the only one who wanted to be a musician. I wanted to go to Juilliard. Study music. I wanted to get good grades, go to a good college. I wanted to have a top-notch education, and pursue my passion at the same time."  
Ariel nodded. Arista's passion was playing the saxophone. She had spend a long time working hard to become the best she could be. She was never even that much obssessed with looks as the other Triton girls.

"I wanted to be different," Arista said sadly. "I wanted to end up someone important." Her ice blue eyes narrowed. "After all, we all know that besides Attina, all of the other girls will probably end up prostitutes."  
Ariel gasped. "A_rista_!"  
Arista looked down. "Sorry. That was a little too far."  
"Like _hell_ it was!" Ariel yelled. Then she quieted down. "I guess…I agreed to help, but I didn't much, did I?"  
"You helped just by keeping my secret." Arista gave Ariel a tiny smile. "Robbie pulled out his money from the bank. I gave him mine and your shares."  
Ariel blinked in surprise. "Oh."  
"And he called Lex. Our real estate agent."  
"Mmmhmm."  
"And Robbie and me agreed to buy the apartment. I'm doing New Mommy workouts at the Y, and I can still swim after the baby is born."  
Ariel nodded slowly. Tears settled on her eyelashes, but she didn't wipe them away.

Arista wrapped her arms around Ariel.

Someone knocked on the door. "I heard someone barfing. Arista, is that you?"  
It was Attina.

Ariel stood. Arista grabbed her arm. "No, don't open it!" she hissed.

So they just sat there, not responding, in their own sisterly world. Suddenly, Arista gasped, grabbing Ariel's hand tightly, gesturing down at her belly. "I think I felt a movement."  
Ariel thought it was doubtful, but she smiled anyway. "You got someone growing inside you."  
Arista laughed softly. "I'm gonna be a mother."  
Ariel stood sharply, turning away and looking into the mirror. She saw a tired redhead with bags under her eyes and tears on her dark lashes. "Arista, I still don't approve. I'll help you, but I don't approve. I just don't see that you're making the right decision here."  
Arista was silent for a long time—contemplating, Ariel thought smugly—but then she touhed Ariel's arm. "Think of it this way," she answered. "Mom had Attina. Then Andrina. Then Adella. Then Alana, then Aquata. She had five girls. And then she got pregnant again with me. She was a bit tired of the pain, the irritation of not being able to sleep on your side, the contractions, the morning sickness, the cravings, the difficulty of walking, climbing stairs, and all the pains and troubles that come with pregnancy. But she didn't care about that—she was focused on the hope. The hope that soon she'd have a new little girl, and the joy of holding something that was truly _hers_."  
Ariel threw her arms in the air. "I _know_, Arista. I understand. But you're too young."  
"Don't forget," Arista murmured. "Mom had an underage pregnancy too."

Ariel sank onto the toilet seat, covering her face with her hands.

"Arista? _Aaaaariel_! Open the door!" wailed Attina. "Ohmygod, I think Arista's dying."  
"Dammit, Attina, she's just a little sick," Ariel snapped, opening the door a crack, gesturing for Arista to disappear from Attina's view. Attina craned her neck. "Is she alright?" her voice echoed genuine sisterly concern.

Ariel sighed. "She's fine. Let her relax for a few seconds."

Attina nodded, and Ariel smacked the door shut, watching Arista's ice blue eyes travel down to her stomach and then up to Ariel's eyes again. "Mom?" Ariel whispered. "She did?"  
"She had Attina when she was seventeen, like me."  
Ariel giggled. "And then the babies just kept coming, huh?"  
"Exactly. And I think I'm ready. I'm mature enough, and I love kids. It'll be hard, but I can do it. And you're with me on this, right, Ariel?"  
Ariel nodded. "Of course." Sighing inwardly, Ariel turned to go, images of her mother floating in her mind. Athena Waters-Triton had the same red hair as Ariel, and the same rebellious attitude as a teenager. Ariel opened the door and looked back, and realized Arista had bent over the toilet seat again.

* * *

_When you want to scare your dumb sisters, a mouse is all it takes. Rule #1 of the Annoying Brothers Manual._

_-Peter_

"_WHAT_?" Cindy exploded, staring at Peter in confusion, shock, but most of all, _anger_. "PETER TREMAINE, YOU DID **WHAT**?"

Peter shied back from Cindy. He had never seen the petite, lithe, passive girl so shaken up before. He inhaled sharply. "Cindy, can you please be quiet?"  
Cindy sank to her bed. "Ohhh, Peter," she breathed. "How could you _do_ something like this?"

Peter looked down. "I loved that girl."  
"What girl?"  
"Wendy Darling," Peter said reluctantly. He hated owning up to love. He wanted people to think of him as fun and childish, not seeing girls in a new light and growing up.

"You can't stay a boy forever," whispered Cindy. "Oh, Peter, of course you like her. Did she like you back?"

Peter looked down at the floor again. "No," he said in a voice so low Cindy had to strain to hear him. She buried her face in her hands, let out a long intake of breath, then peered out between her fingers. "You need to return the Crystal."  
"They found it."  
Cindy did a double-take. "They WHAT?" She stood up, grabbing Peter's arm. "So now you're going to jail?"  
"Not exactly," Peter admitted. "I hid the Crystal somewhere."  
Cindy furrowed her brow. "Okay…"  
"I hid it in one of my classmates' rooms."  
Cindy once again had that shocked/horrified look on her face that sent guilt erupting in waves throughout Jim's body. "WHY? Why would you _DO _that?"

"He stole her from me. Wendy."  
Cindy collapsed onto her bed. "Peter. You have GOT to be kidding me, Peter. Do you realize what you've done?! You've framed that poor innocent kid and now he's going to be condemned for murder! How can you live with yourself?"  
Peter sighed. "I don't know, but I was hoping Wendy would forget him and move on once he'd die."  
Cindy shook her head. "True love never dies. Only grows stronger through time."  
Peter slammed his hand against her desk, knocking some of her makeup off the table. "That's not _true_! People break up all the time! And this wasn't true love. They were just _dancing_. And besides, Hawkins could get himself a million girlfriends. He _has_ to go after the one _I _want."  
Cindy shook his head. "Oh, Peter."  
He hated when she said that. "Stop it, Cindy."  
She sat up slowly and looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't know what to say, Peter."  
Peter put his finger to his lips. "Just keep the secret."  
Cindy stood. "_No_. I can't, it's wrong. You have to call in and say the kid didn't do it; he was framed."  
"What, so I can DIE?" Peter roared.

Cindy bit her lip hard, so hard she tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. "Peter, I don't know."  
"Just keep the secret," Peter whispered. "Everything will work out. The Agents aren't really gonna kill a minor. They're just doing it to scare a bunch of chicken New Yorkers."  
Cindy looked doubtful.

"Please, Cindy," Peter begged.

Cindy sucked in air. "Fine."  
Peter smiled and turned to leave. But Cindy grabbed his arm. "Now you have to do something for _me_," she said.

Peter raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Get my phone."  
Peter leaned back. "Wait, what? Get your _phone_? Where is it?"  
Cindy looked both ways, then turned back to Peter. "In Stepmother's room. In her top drawer. The key is around her neck, got it? I need to talk to someone."  
"Who?"  
Cindy didn't reply. "Just go."  
Confused, Peter scratched his messy mane of red hair. "How?"  
Cindy started back to bed. "Your call. Whatever way you want; but Peter, I want my phone by morning. Got it?"  
Peter nodded. "I swear."

* * *

The first thing he did was visit the mouse cages in the servant's kitchen. He checked each one, and found them all empty. Just as he was losing hope, he arrived at the last one and spotted a little field mouse scampering around. Grinning, Peter opened the cage a bit. The mouse rushed out, and Peter clamped it tightly in his cupped hands.

"It's okay," he said breathlessly, as he walked upstairs to a small room next door to Drisella's. Smiling inwardly at what he was supposed to do, he opened the door a crack and knelt to the ground. He opened his mouth.

"Luuuuucifer…."  
The fat black and white cat lying in a bed in the corner of the dark room let out a feeble meow. _Go away, _the meow said.

Peter didn't give up. "Luuuuucifer. Smell the mousy-mouse? Look, I got a nice fresh one for you. Straight from the mousecage. Lucifer! Wake up!"  
The cat now opened one of his yellow eyes and got out of bed, running to Peter's ankles and circling him like a fat panther.

Peter smiled and began to back out of the room.

"Meeeeeay," Lucifer moaned at the movement of his delicious mouse, and began to follow Peter. Peter twisted the doorhandle to Drisella's room, tiptoed in, and bent down. "Lucifer! See the mouse? See the tasty mouse? Ready for it? Ready for it, Lucifer?"  
Lucifer literally drooled on the ground while bouncing on all four chubby paws, his gaze locked on the wiggling field mouse.

Peter took a deep breath and tossed the mouse into Drisella's bed. It scampered underneath the covers and to Peter's intense glee—into Drisella's blue and green nightgown. Lucifer, with a yowl of delight, leaped off the ground, went airborne, and then disappeared into Drisella's duvet.

Peter raced into the hallway, laughing, and heard the terrified shriek of his stepsister. He saw Anastasia, red hair up in neon pink rollers, run out. "What the heck was that?" she demanded.

"I don't know," Peter lied. "Better go check."

Drisella came running out, Lucifer on her face, clawing, biting, snapping. Anastasia gasped. There were angry scratch marks on Drisella's face and arms. Peter stifled a laugh. He felt guilty, but this was for Cindy.

"What should I dooooooo?" wailed Drisella.

"Um," Anastasia looked at Peter.

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Go to Mother."  
Drisella began running down a lunatic down the hallway, and jiggled the doorhandle to Lady Tremaine's room. "MothermothermothermothermotherMOTHER!" shrieked Drisella.

Lady Tremaine's annoyed voice sounded from inside. "What IS it, Drisella?"  
"_MOUUUUUSE_!" shrieked Drisella. "Mother, p-p-please open the door!"  
Lady Tremaine threw open the door, and Drisella tackled her, crawling over her, doing a desperate, shaky dance in front of the mirror, trying to dissuade the poor mouse.

Peter saw it scamper out from under her, for the door, unseen by the eyes of Drisella, Anastasia, or Lady Tremaine.

Peter grabbed the mouse. "Lucifer!" he yelled, pretending to be reprimanding the cat. The cat looked at him. He hastily waved the mouse by the tail. Lucifer sprang at Peter. Peter changed course and threw it onto his mother.

With another squeal, Lucifer jumped onto Lady Tremaine.

"M-m-_mother_!" cried Anastasia, thoroughly horrified.

Drisella was sobbing in a corner.

Peter dashed into his room, grabbed his knife out from under his pillow, raced back to Lady Tremaine's room to wait for the right moment….

Within seconds, he felt the moment was coming up. Before anyone could say anthing, Peter sprang forward and cut the string. The key fell to the ground, and Peter scooped it up, shoving it into his pocket. He put the knife away and grabbed Lucifer, pulling him off, with Lady Tremaine muttering curses far more vile than the words out of a sailor's mouth.

"That damn cat!" she yelled. "And that damn Cinderella! She never even checks for mice!"  
Peter dumped Lucifer with his mouse prize on the stairs. "Get lost," he hissed at the cat.

Then he grabbed his own cell phone and dialed Lady Tremaine's home phone number.

It rang and rang and rang.

Lady Tremaine seemed to be trying to ignore it—until at last, luck gave out and she got up, stamping her way downstairs to answer the phone.

Peter spoke in a falsetto as he unlocked the top drawer. "Uh, hello? Is your refrigerator running?"  
"What?!" Lady Tremaine sounded like she was in a crappy mood, which she was.

Peter spotted the purple-and-green case of the iPhone. He grabbed it and pocketed it, hurling the key out the window, and slamming the drawer shut.

"Hello, who is this?" Lady Tremaine was demanding.

"Sorry, wrong number," Peter snapped, and hung up.

He smiled as he left the phone by a sleeping Cindy's bedside table and climbed into his own bed downstairs—but even as he did, he thought of Jim Hawkins.

And he wasn't able to get any sleep.

* * *

**How do you guys like this chapter? Review! Because more reviews=more motivation=faster updates. So far I am SOO GRATEFUL for all the support my fans have given me!**


	18. New Love and the Bronson Gang

**Hola, guys and girls! I'm really happy how The Crystal Thief is progressing, and I am eternally grateful to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, or even just took the time to read my story. **

**Okay, no particularly spectacular news today. Well, I don't know how spectacular this news may be to people. But due to some PMs and reviews I have lately gotten, I was contemplating perhaps adding new POVs? I was thinking Megara, from Hercules. She seems like the type of person that would be socializing with Flynn and Jim and giving her perspective on the Thief. I think that maybe I should add Rapunzel and Giselle? I envision them as best friends and also cheerleaders. They seem like the type who'd rant about the Thief and how annoying he was…idk. And maybe Elsa and Anna? I have no idea. Clearly I need to think this through. I'm gonna have a busy weekend. So please give me support! And help me out, PLEASE. Send me PMs or reviews with suggestions that might take a little of the load off my shoulders. Thanks guys! **

**Reply to Comments: **

**Avril Lambert: Thanks for reviewing yet again! And yeah, Arista does jobs too—just check out my PM; hope you got it. **

**ChainedPromisesAndBrokenDreams: I defenitely considered your POVs, and as you can see, am now including some of them! (PS: I am in the process of reading your story. I'll PM you the deets…)**

**TheLonelyMonstersCompanion: Awwww, thx! And yes, totes, that is EXACTLY how I felt about Peter too! **

**Mirror: Thanks for the inspirational, motivational, criticism-filled butt-kicking review! I really liked some of your suggestions, and will be sure to incorporate some of them in my writing! Arista's apartment…hmm….I made up Arista's boyfriend, Robbie Frayman. He is an OC that I created. Nerds rock! **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the storyline; Disney owns all the characters….except Dani Spark, Robbie Frayman, and Miss Dinitia(new character excitement!) They belong to me! **

**Oh, and PS, halfway through the story, it will ask you to look up a certain video and fast-forward to a certain time. Please do so! **

* * *

_My mom told me never to fraternize with bad boys, that they'd get you into trouble, mess with your head and leave you, but every time I see him, I seem to forget._

_-Dani _

Dani picked up her electric blue tote bag and left Yellow Stars Diner to go to Dinitia's Dance Studio, where she worked. Her teacher, Miss Dinitia, had already started the class when she arrived. Dani laid down her bag, wearing her blue leotard. She tied her blonde hair into a high ponytail and started onto the mat.

She sensed movement to her right and turned around quickly. At the doorway was Flynn Rider, leaning casually against the doorframe. Cheerily, Dani waved.

She studied his gorgeous eyes, his tan skin, his crop of shiny brown hair, his carefree bad-boy attitude, his brown satchel, his blue vest over a long-sleeve white shirt and cute black pants.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"It's a public place," said Dani with a smile. "But Miss Dinitia doesn't like strangers in here watching her students dance. We're preparing for a show next month."  
Flynn frowned. "Oh. But I'm coming in anyway. Pretend I'm invisible."  
Dani smiled.

Flynn entered, set his satchel down, and sat next to it, watching the dancers. Dani jutted her chin out at his satchel. "Nice purse, Flynn."  
Flynn glared at her. "_Sa-tchel. _It's a satchel."  
Dani rolled her eyes in a playful way and trotted onto the dance mat.

"Dani," said Dinitia, stopping the music, her emerald green eyes taking in Dani. "Who's your friend over there?"  
"Flynn."  
"Is he here to watch?"  
Dani flinched. "Yes, Miss Dinitia."  
Dinitia shook her head. "Sorry. No strangers in here. Unless they're prepared to dance."  
Flynn felt an ache in his heart. He wanted to see Dani dance, but he himself did not want to dance. He stood slowly. "I want to stay."  
Dinitia challenged him with her eyes. "Then join my class."  
Flynn felt a warmth creep into his cheeks. "The only dance I've ever done is the Corona Kingdom Dance. With my ex-girlfriend, Rapunzel."  
The class tittered. "Quiet," hissed Dinitia. "That's fine. The Corona Kingdom Dance is actually pretty complicated, from what I've heard. This is ballet. Much easier. Come on in."

Flynn walked in, glaring at the blonde-haired pretties standing around giggling over Flynn's muscles and abs and neat shiny brown hair, his big figure.

"Flynn, have you heard the Greek myth about the water nymphs that did a magical dance around their god, Poseidon, paying tribute to him? He saved them from a monster that threatened to take over their waters." Dinitia gestured at the girls' light blue sparkly leotards, and her own.  
"My cousin, Chandler, is actually a professional ballet dancer, and teaches ballet in Missouri," said Dinitia. "And for our show next month, he's supposed to come and be our Poseidon. But since you are here to ogle at my girls, would you like to be our Poseidon for today? It's more productive than staring at a bunch of girls flouncing around in tight skirts. What do you say?"  
Flynn had barely heard what came out of Dinitia's mouth. She was a fast talker, but he found himself nodding. "Poseidon is some bigshot god, right?" Flynn asked. "So that's cool."

"I hope you're fond of tights, Mr. Flynn," said Dinitia with a grin.

* * *

Dani twirled and twirled, her ponytail flying behind her, her gray eyes flashing as she looked at Flynn's face. **(You guys, if you want to get a better picture of Flynn Rider's face at right this second, go to Youtube, then type in "I've Got A Dream Tangled Lyrics Full HD" and then click the first video that comes up. Then fast-forward to 1:46. I laughed so hard, lol Flynn Rider Forever!) **

Dani held back a laugh.

"Mr. Flynn," said Dinitia. "Why don't you try the leap one more time. And don't fall over, or sound like a stampeding elephant. Just jump and land lightly on your toes."

Flynn, with his face still the same as before (**look up the video, seriously!)**, obeyed what Dinitia said, and crashed into Dani.

Dani barreled over, crashing into a row of plastic folding chairs, knocking over several boxes, and sprawling on the dance mat that smelled of feet and sweat.

"Ouch!" Flynn muttered, rolling off of Dani. "Sorry, Dani."  
Dani laughed. "It's fine, it's fine." She stood up, but collapsed back down laughing again.

Dinitia mopped her forehead. "Oh, for the love of God. Class dismissed!"

* * *

After class, Flynn started to walk Dani home.

"Where do you live?" asked Flynn, looking around.

"Beddington Lane," Dani responded. "A few houses away from Wendy Darling's."  
Flynn nodded. "It's the next street over."  
Dani nodded, too.

On Beddington Lane, the two awkwardly stood in front of the house, and Flynn handed Dani's dance bag to her, which he had been carrying.

"Awww," Dani had cooed. "What a gentleman, Flynn Rider." Which was totally unlike him. Why he would cow to girls and carry their bags around Dani didn't know. He was acting weird—showing up at Dinitia's, offering to join ballet, and carry her bag, walk her home, talking to her in a gentle tone he usually didn't display in school or class.

The other side of Flynn Rider.

Flynn reached out gently, and took one of Dani's hands. Her heart started thudding, but he didn't do anything weird, just moved his thumb across her knuckles and looked into her gray eyes. "What other type of dance do you do?" he asked softly.

Dani's response was nearly a whisper. "Pop and ballet."  
Flynn looked down, scratched his neck, and finally looked over her head into the distance. "Dani, would you like to…go to a movie on Friday?" Flynn asked.

Two days from now. Dani bit her lip. Her father didn't let her date, but maybe just one…if she snuck out….

She looked at Flynn's face and realized how cute and nice he really was. But suddenly Dani felt a pang of something. Sorrow? Emptiness? She didn't know. She grabbed his hands tightly in her own, and reached up carefully to touch his face.

His stubble was scratchy and she liked it. His eyes looked down at her, brown and beautiful and full of soul.

"It's just that—" Dani let go of his face and traveled her hands down his muscly forearms and back to hold his hands. "My mom has this thing. Against 'bad boys.'"  
Flynn frowned. "Me? A bad boy? Nah, I'm an angel."  
Dani smiled. "I'm sure. But in all seriousness, my mom made me promise her that I'd never _fraternize_ with bad boys. She said they'd leave you, mess with your head, and you'd end up hurt in the end."  
"I won't hurt you," whispered Flynn. "I promise."  
"But you broke up with Rapunzel."  
"I won't make that mistake with you," promised Flynn. "And I'll be straightforward."  
Dani raised her eyebrows. "She also said bad boys make promises they can't keep."  
Flynn shook his head. "Okay, I can tell this is going the wrong way, so just say no and I'll leave."

Dani shook her head too, rapidly. "Nononono, please don't go, Flynn."

Flynn turned.

"Yes, I'll go out with you." Dani glared. "But I'm trusting you. You made a promise."  
Flynn smiled, his eyes sparkled. "Yeah, you won't regret it."  
"I'm sure I won't," said Dani with a grin. She fell against him, breathed in his scent as he hugged her. He smelled of cologne and aftershave, and his muscly arms felt good against her back.

"You'll come to my show next month, right?" Dani begged.

Flynn nodded. "Absolutely."

Dani broke away, grinning, and headed back inside her house, waving every step of the way to Flynn.

As he went back, instead of his usual swaying walk, Flynn jumped, skipped and ran, a big smile on his face.

He passed two men playing chess near several women standing around chatting at doorsteps. Their eyes widened as they saw the gruff teenage boy who usually stood around smoking cigarettes and flirting with girls with his friends near Bronson skipping around smiling and _humming_ to himself.

"What's with him?" demanded one of the old men.

The other one shrugged in surprise, forgetting to make his move. "He must be on drugs."  
"Oh, you fools," snapped one of the women, harrumphing and turning to them, one hand on her hips. "It's quite obvious, isn't it?"  
The other women smiled and stared after Flynn Rider.  
"What?" demanded the first man.

The lady smiled sweetly. "Isn't it obvious? He's in _love_."

* * *

_Sometimes I hate my life._

_-Meg_

Meg came out of Bronson, rubbing her back. Her job was to be a sexpot, and it hurt sometimes, depending on the guy she did it with. Wearing just a pair of lacy white underwear, Meg hurried into a side closet to pull on her purple miniskirt. She went out under the awning for a little alone-time. At least now, for a half-hour, she was off-limits. No longer the property of some guy. Free to be Megara Chavons.

She leaned against the brick wall, exhausted, and pulled out a dark blue packet of cigarettes, lighting one quickly and sticking it in her mouth.

Inhaling the acrid gray smoke gave her some satisfaction inside of her.

Sometimes she hated her life and wished to just end it all. She was a senior at Walt Disney High now, but had no chance of graduating. At least so she thought.

She spotted Flynn Rider coming that way. She had known Flynn forever it seemed, and sometimes thought he would actually ask to "commission" her. But he never had, though he never hesitated to share a cigarette or beer with her by the doorway of Bronson with his douche friend Gaston.

Flynn smiled and stopped to say hi.

Meg jutted out her slim hips and gave him a sexy salute. He didn't respond, only leaned against the brick wall and looked out into the city.

Hmmm. Meg narrowed her eyes. She didn't understand why Flynn hadn't fell hard for her yet. Clearly she deserved a guy like him, not like the guy today. Greasy gray hair, short of breath, sweaty and smelled like beer. She didn't deserve a horny old geezer like that guy.

Meg turned and bent down slowly pretending to pick up an earring she hadn't dropped. She glanced back to see if Flynn was staring. But he bent down with her. "Earring?" he asked.

Meg nodded in surprise.

"Want a beer?"  
Meg nodded again, slowly.

"Be right back." He was gone.

Meg straightened up. She didn't get it. She was clearly one of the prettiest girls in NYC. Why couldn't she get a hot guy like Flynn? She knew he was cute and she liked him. She desired him. She folded her arms across her narrow chest.

"Hey, Meg."  
Meg turned around to spot several of her other Bronson-buddies standing by the wall. Meg smiled and went to join them, still confused about Flynn. Maybe he was gay?  
Phoebus and Esmeralda, who had been dating for about two years;—which was _amazing_ for a sexpot like Esme—Quasimodo, who was a sculptor who worked at home and had graduated a year ago from Disney High; and Holli Would, a prostitute like Meg.

Flynn came out again. "Heyyy, guys. What's up?"  
Holli, Esme, Phoebus and Quasi waved at him. He offered Meg the beer.

"Oooh, _cute_," Esme purred. "Flynn, you and Meg have a thing going now?"  
Meg didn't mind. With a smile, she looked at him for affirmation. But Flynn shook his head, his eyebrows narrowing. "Sorry," he said quietly. "I have a girlfriend, Meg."  
He's _lying_. What creepy skank is he sleeping with now? Meg leaned forward. "Who is it? Is she a senior like Esme and Phoebus? A junior like us? Or is she practically a woman?"  
Flynn frowned. "Meg—"

But Meg was already worked up enough. She sucked in air. "I'm sorry, Flynn. Bad day at work."  
"Yeah, _work_," laughed Holli.

"We have the same job," Meg said, gritting her teeth. Dumb frickin' blonde.

Holli tucked her hair behind her ears. A nice-looking guy walked by in a leather jacket, heading for Bronson. "Heyyyy," Holli drawled, following him with her eyes.

Meg smacked her and Quasi laughed. Esmeralda and Phoebus were busy making out.

And Flynn was already gone.

"So about the Thief," said Holli, glancing at Quasi to include him in the conversation. Phoebus and Esme stopped kissing and began to listen.

"What about him?" Meg asked, wishing Flynn had stayed a little longer.

"They're suspecting a minor. As in, a sophomore."  
Meg's eyes widened. "Who told you?"  
"Clay Hepburn."  
Meg raised her eyebrows. "Okay, who the _hell_ is that?"  
"A…friend. I met him at work."  
Meg nodded, understanding. "Oh. But they're not going to execute a juvenile, right?"  
"Hopefully not," sighed Holli. "But it would be fun to watch."  
Meg shook her head. "Who are they convicting?"  
"Clay's dad is in the police force. I'd tell you…but we have a bad habit of mouthing off secrets." Holli was right, the whole gang could never keep a secret.

Quasi timidly raised his hand. "I can keep a secret. I wouldn't tell." It was true; Quasi was sort of a homebody.

Holli leaned forward. "Okay, fine. I heard they're convicting _Jim Hawkins_. Anybody know him?"  
Esme and Phoebus shook their heads. So did Quasi. Meg nodded. "I know him. He hangs out with Gaston and Flynn over by Bronson."  
Holli raised her hand. "I kissed him last year at a party. Spin the Bottle."

Meg wasn't surprised. Holli kissed anyone within twenty feet of her.

"I would hate to see him framed, though," Meg said, doubt quivering inside her. "No one should go to jail for what they didn't do."  
"You should know," hooted Esme.

Meg nodded, she _should_. She had gone to jail while in her junior year. Because of the strict futuristic government rule, she had been shipped straight to jail without a fair trial—for some crime she didn't even commit. Her ex-boyfriend from freshman year, Herc, turned in a report that his current girlfriend, Chloe, had been murdered in the school parking lot, next to Meg's wine-colored car.

Of course, the government had carried her off. Obviously, someone else had killed Chloe and framed Meg. Or maybe it was just an accident. But either way the government had planned to execute her for murder, until the murderer—some idiot named Will Rhodes—confessed to the cops. And then they let her go. Since then, Meg had been very strong on people being "framed" and going to jail without a fair trial for no reason.

The teenagers near Bronson grew silent.

"Anyway," said Holli, breaking the silence. "I'm going home. I have a huge headache."  
"Goodnight," Quasi murmured. "I have to go finish a sculpture."  
"We're going to bed," Phoebus informed the group, and Esme left with him. Meg knew it was her turn to just leave Bronson, but she knew around what time Gaston came around with his "Jim" friend.

She lit a cigarette and sat back. She decided to wait.

* * *

**Hashtag cliffhanger! Because of Meg's backstory-she was framed and spent time in jail, scraped NARROWLY by execution-she can obviously connect well with Jim Hawkins. Have an awesome weekend guys! Keep reading and reviewing. I hope I can update again this weekend...**

**Wow, if I had a Deviantart account, I would totally draw and upload Dani Spark. But I can't. :( **

**I hope I can get an account...**


	19. The Talk and the Drive

**Hey guys! It's almost halfway through the story, and I'm really excited for the next few chapters. Well, I feel horrible about the next few chapters, actually. Poor Jim. But I'm absolutely ECSTATIC for the ending. I think I have something good in store. I THINK.**

**Okay, new OC in this chapter! Just the introduction for him…it will hopefully go into detail for him in the next chapter. **

**Thank you to sultal for helping me find a name for my OC! **

**Thank you to:**

**Sultal—thanks for all ur help.**

**Avril Lambert—yeah, I totally love Dani and Flynn too! Yay Meg! **

**ChainedPromisesAndBrokenDreams—thank youuuu! **

**ScoobyDoo—that's a pretty good idea; I hope I can fit that in!**

**GigglyLaughs—Thanks so much! Yeah, I think an OC would have been more appropriate for Ariel as well, instead of getting back together with Eric. **

**RamanNoodles—Thanks for all the REVIEWS! Really motivated me. YOU ARE MY 100****th**** REVIEWER! Love You! **

**On to the chapter! **

* * *

_You know that feeling you get when you're so confused, but no one will clue you in?  
-Jim_

At Bronson, moths fluttered around the lights, and the scarlet graffiti on the brick walls stood out. Jim walked to Bronson alone. He was used to walking and talking with Gaston and Flynn, but as he looked, Gaston was not there. Neither was Flynn. Just him and some tall girl with curly brown hair in a high ponytail wearing what looked like the world's thinnest clothing.

Jim walked up to her. "Hey." He knew her; he had seen her at Bronson many times before. But her name had slipped his mind.  
"Meg," she said with a smile. "You are?"  
"Jim."  
Her eyes widened for some reason, and she dropped her can of Heineken. The can cracked, and amber liquid spilled out.

"My bad." Meg bent down to pick up the can, showing off her cleavage. Jim looked away. He had to stay pure. He had a girlfriend now. Wendy, Wendy, Wendy.

"Jim…Hawkins?" Meg repeated, tossing the can lightly over her shoulder like she owned Bronson. Jim nodded, surprised that this girl knew him. "Yeah. Gaston told you?"  
"Not Gaston." She didn't clarify on who, only hugged herself tightly.

Jim shrugged.

"Cigarette?"  
Jim shook his head. "No thanks. I don't…I don't smoke." He was feeling so confused. "Wait, who told you about me? How do you know my last name?"  
"I'm magic," Meg replied dryly. Jim was getting more and more irritated with her. "No, you're not. Tell me. Is there something wrong?"  
Meg slapped her hand to her heart. "Why the hell would there be something wrong?"  
"Your face. When I told you my name."  
Meg laughed lightly and shrugged it off. "I once knew a guy named Jim. In jail. You looked…er, familiar."  
Jim had a feeling she was lying to keep him off her case, but most Bronson girls were just as mysterious as Meg, so he didn't think much of it. "Oh. You were in jail?"  
Meg laughed again, a little nervously. "I didn't do anything."  
Jim grinned. "We never do anything. The cops are just assholes."  
Meg laughed, throwing her head back. "No, but really, I didn't. I was _framed_." She raised her thin bracket-shaped eyebrows at this. Was she trying to give him a hint? Jim shook his head to clear it. "By whom?"  
"Some worthless piece of crap. Will Rhodes. You probably read about it in the paper."  
"Is he in jail now?"  
Meg looked at Jim bitterly. "He's _dead_."  
Jim gasped. "What? Why? How old was he?"  
"A sophomore, believe it or not."  
"Suicide?"  
Meg raised her eyebrows again, almost to her hairline. "Absolutely not! The government executed him in the public square. That's the punishment murder gets."  
"I heard that the person who stole the Crystal gets killed in the square too. Because its murder." Jim looked at Meg to try and read the intense emotions on her face. But she just looked at him blankly. "Yeah, it would be," Meg said.

Jim felt anger building up. "You're confusing, you know that?"  
Meg looked sarcastically at Jim. "Aw, thanks, hon, for letting me know." Meg narrowed her eyes. "You're not the first to say so."  
"It's like you're cluing me in on something and then you break away. And I have no idea what the hell you're talking about!"  
Meg turned away. "You did it. They know."  
"WHAT?" Jim exploded. "I did _what_? _Who_ knows? Who the hell are you?"  
Meg looked at him. "The cops. You did it, didn't you?"  
Jim's heart was beating so hard he thought he was going to die of fear. He never thought it was possible, but blood was rushing in his ears and he just wanted to run away, be a little boy again.

Meg started to back away, but Jim grabbed her arm tight and pulled her back. "I swear to God, you're not leaving until you tell me what all this crap is."

"The Thief. Is it you?"  
Jim narrowed his eyes. "You think the thief is _me_?"  
Meg leaned back against the wall. "Cigarette?"  
Jim was getting annoyed. "No, I told you I don't smoke. Why do you think it's me?"

Meg shrugged, her bony shoulders moving up and down. "I heard it. From a friend."  
"Your friend's a lying skank."  
Meg laughed. "Not too far from the truth."

Jim, now convinced Meg was playing a trick on him, shoved what she said into the back of her mind and shut up, staring off into space.

"Hey, Jim."

Jim turned around and grinned at the guy who had just arrived. "Adrian! Hey, bro, where you been?"

Adrian moved towards them and politely raised a hand in greeting to Meg. "Hi, I'm Adrian Trent."

Meg waggled her fingers at Adrian. He was sexy, muscly, tanned and seemed nice, with blue eyes and dark hair.

Adrian leaned against the brick wall with them. "What are you talking about?"

"The Crystal Thief," said Meg with a tiny smile. "What do you know about that?"

Adrian shrugged. "I know much about a lot of things. Mr. Triton, the man I work for, tells me about all this stuff. I don't know who the Agents think it is, but whoever it is, they're defenitely in trouble."  
Meg looked pointedly at Jim.

Jim, still not comprehending, shook his his head. "I've got to go home anyway."

Adrian nodded. "I was just passing by on my way to Home Depot. Running an errand for Miss Alana."

Jim started around to the front of Bronson alone. As he did, he spotted Wendy standing there. He ran to her and grabbed her hands. "Wendy, what's wrong? Why are you here?"  
Wendy shook her head. "I need you."  
Jim wrapped his arms around her. "What's wrong? What happened?"  
Wendy tightened her arm around Jim's middle. "Daddy hit Michael. Aunt Millicent came to our house."  
Jim's eyes widened. "Tonight?"  
"She was in New York on business. John called her. I was at Dani's, and my cell phone was off."  
Jim cocked his head. "So…"  
"She took them away. And I'm to leave as well—if I want to. And it's very wrong for me to just live with Daddy, isn't it?"  
Jim swallowed. "No. You can't leave, you have to—"  
Wendy looked down, a tear trickling down her cheek. "Who will I stay with, Jim?"  
"Me?" Jim asked, feeling desperate.

Wendy let out a soft sob. Jim pulled her close. "I'll walk you home."  
"_Home_?"  
Jim shook his head. "_My_ house. You can stay with me."

* * *

"Gaston," whispered Wendy.

Jim looked, and spotted him over near a bridge alone with one of his midget friends, Lafou.

Gaston suddenly marched in that direction. "Jim!" he yelled. "Who the _hell_ are you, to be flouncing around with that _prude_!"  
Wendy gasped. Jim bit back a rude remark. "Why don't you just get lost?" Jim said, and turned Wendy around to walk her to the Benbow.

"Just a minute," snapped Gaston, grabbing Jim's shoulder. "I got a score to settle with you, asshole."  
"Get the hell off me," Jim shouted, slapping his hand off.

"I'll get the hell off _you_," Gaston agreed. "I don't want you. I want _her_." He reached out, obviously drunk and grabbed Wendy's elbow, twisting it hard. Wendy stumbled onto Gaston, who smashed his lips against hers.

Wendy punched Gaston in the face. He twisted her arms again and tumbled over backwards.

"Don't touch her!" Jim shoved Gaston as hard as he could. Gaston lost his footing and fell straight into the water under the bridge.

Jim pulled Wendy up. "You okay?"  
Wendy buried her face into his shirt.

"Your arms. Are they…?"  
"I'm fine," Wendy breathed. "Just take me home."  
"Do you need a doctor?"  
"Take me home."  
Jim furrowed his brow. "Wendy—"

"_Please_."

Jim nodded. "Okay."

* * *

All that night, Wendy slept in Jim's arms in his bed. The night was dark and quiet…neither of them expected a thing to happen the next morning. It was supposed to be a normal day.

Neither knew what was coming.

* * *

_She'd never love a guy like me. _

_-Adrian_

Adrian drove the car down the rainy street and spotted a familiar girl on the sidewalk next to the salon. She waved. "HEY!"

Adrian stopped the car. "Miss Ariel?"  
Ariel ran to the car and opened the door. "Ohhh, _Adrian_, I'm so glad you're here! My car broke down."  
"That old car?" Adrian asked, frowning.

"I know, I know." Ariel sighed. "I need to get it fixed. I was wondering…could you take me home and come pick up the car tomorrow?"  
Adrian nodded. "Absolutely. Get in."  
As he drove back home, he looked at Ariel Triton's face. Her red hair was wet and matted down to the side of her face. Her eyes were bright blue, and she was wearing a white blouse.

But he was just the driver/gardener. He would never be able to get the attention of a beautiful rich girl like Ariel Triton.

Just like that, totally drained, Adrian stopped the car in front of the marble stairs. Ariel slid out of the car. "Thank you so much, Adrian," whispered Ariel. She kissed him on the cheek and ran up the stairs inside.

For the rest of the night, Adrian felt uplifted.

* * *

**OMG, I freaking love Adrian so much! And he's not even REAL! **


	20. The Arrest and the Garden

**Thanks to NarikoTheShadow and Avril Lambert for reviewing every chapter! **

**I'm super excited about this chapter, so let's get straight onto it. **

* * *

_They came so quickly and out of nowhere. Like insects. Except even if you blast them with BugsBeGone, they won't go away. _

_-Wendy_

When Wendy woke up, she was buried under the covers in Jim's bed, her purse and cell phone on the bedside table next to her, her hair a wild tangled mess stuck with static to her pillow.

Jim was asleep next to her, half off the bed, his hair messy, his shirt rumpled. They had both slept in yesterday's clothes.

Wendy couldn't even remember what yesterday was, though her arms ached. It seemed like a bad dream, and then like sporadic raindrops memories came rushing back:

Mr. Darling hitting Michael.

Her cell phone off while she ate pizza and watched _Dear John _at Dani's.

John calling Aunt Millicent, on business in New York.

Aunt Millicent's curse words. Her yelling.

Her decision to move Michael and John back to London, unless Mr. Darling reformed and stopped drinking.

Wendy sucked in air through her teeth, making a whistling sound. She slumped back onto the pillow, and then felt a tug at her hair. She turned her face, seeing Jim's eyes opening, his fingers toying with a strand of her wavy light brown hair. She smiled at him. "Good morning, James Pleiades Hawkins."

Jim grinned back. "Good morning, Wendy." He added, "I'd say your full name, but I'm too lazy."  
Wendy chuckled—this is what she loved about Jim.

She ran her hands through his hair. He sat up. "I have to go to the bathroom, but I'll be back."  
After he left, Wendy jumped out of bed and went to the mirror, forgetting about her problems. She ran a hand through her hair. Her cute little blue bow was already sliding out. She removed it and spread it near her phone, trying to smooth out the crinkles in it. She finger-combed her hair and spread it over her shoulders, straightened out her blue cotton dress, and climbed back into bed, trying to look sexy-cool, which usually only worked when done by Triton Girls.

Jim came back, and practically dove onto her, kissing her on the mouth passionately, her hands tangled in his hair, his hands running up and down her torso. Wendy's heart beat fast. She was so excited she needed to pee. She was laughing by the time the passionate kiss was over.

"Love you," Jim whispered.

"Love—" Wendy began. She was cut off by the shrill noise of sirens. She quickly slid out of bed and rushed to the windowsill. She pointed. "Jim, _look_! It's Rhimes! And a bunch of cops!"  
Jim looked out the window with Wendy. "What the hell are they doing at my place?"  
Wendy was getting a bad feeling, but she kept thinking that maybe a customer was sick or hurt or something downstairs. She prayed that was the answer.

Uniformed officials ran inside, flanked by a female officer and Rhimes. Wendy craned her neck. "I can't see!" she cried. "Why are they entering the Benbow?"  
"I don't know," Jim said nervously, his voice hushed.

Suddenly, the doorhandle of Jim's door jiggled. Wendy gasped, turning around. Jim placed a finger to his lips.

"James Hawkins, open the door," said a female voice in a flawless British accent. "Open the door and come out willingly with your hands up. We won't use brute force if you comply with our orders."  
"Brute force, my ass," Jim snapped.

"Jim—" Wendy grabbed his arm. "Jim, do what they say. I don't want them to break in."  
"They won't do anything."  
"But they're the _law_."  
Jim didn't say anything, just set his jaw and stared at the door. "I wanna see what they're gonna do," he said.

Wendy panicked more and more with every instant.

"Mr. Hawkins," said the female voice with growing impatience. "Mr. Hawkins, please follow orders. Open the door and come out with your hands up."  
"I didn't do anything!" Jim yelled.

"So he's in there," Wendy heard Rhimes say. "Tell them to break down the damn door, Officer Smollet."  
Officer Smollet's voice was weary. "We're coming in. Break down the door."

The door was forced open, and shards of lock splintered the carpet. Wendy let out a shriek, terrified, and grabbed Jim's arm.

Two cops seized Jim's arms.

"Don't struggle, please, Mr. Hawkins," requested Officer Smollet. "Just come willingly to the police station."  
"Let _go_!" Jim broke away and looked desperately back at Wendy. Wendy ran forward and grabbed the arm of one of the cop's twisting it back. With a yell, they let go of Jim. "_Stop_!" Wendy screamed. "What are you doing? What did he do?"  
"Miss…Darling, is it?" Officer Smollet reached for her arm. "Let go of him. He's a delinquent."  
"You're the damn delinquent!" Wendy cried, tears cascading down her face. It was the first swear word she had ever screamed out in public like that.

"_Enough_!" Officer Smollet snarled. "Why don't you stay back? We are in the process of arresting a juvenile delinquent. Let us do our job."

"He didn't do anything!" Wendy grabbed Officer Smollet's arm. "Don't do this, please!"  
Officer Smollet looked away. "Someone please remove this girl."  
An officer came back and began to drag Wendy away. She struggled against them. One officer pinned her to the wall to keep her from moving. The pain caused Wendy to cry out harder.

"Leave her alone!" Jim yelled, bucking away and running to Wendy. He jabbed the officer in his ribs, making him fall over. He grabbed Wendy. "Wendy, it's gonna be okay," he murmured. "It's gonna be fine."  
"Why are they doing this?" Wendy demanded, crying so hard her body was heaving up and down with sobs. "What did you do?"  
"Nothing!" Jim protested.

Two officers grabbed Jim and wrestled him into handcuffs, pinning his arms behind his back. "Ouch!" Jim yelled, trying to break away, but they held him and began pushing him out the door.

"_Wendy_!" he yelled.

Wendy crawled to her iPhone, dialing Dani's number as fast as her shaking fingers would allow.

The officers began to leave. Wendy sobbed against Jim's bedside table. Officer Smollet bent down. She had emerald green eyes, pale skin, and was well-fitted in her uniform with a gloriously curvy body. "Are you alright, Miss Darling?" she asked.

"Where are you taking him?" Wendy whispered.

"Hello? Wendy?" Dani's voice came through the phone.  
"My dear," said Officer Smollet. "He's the Crystal Thief."  
No words could describe the shock Wendy went through at that second. "No."

"Wendy? No—what?!" Dani's voice sounded freaked.  
Officer Smollet looked sympathetic. "Yes, dear."

"NO!" Wendy screamed at the top of her lungs. She raced out the door, staring down the hallway at the cops shoving Jim down the stairs. "JIM!"

"_Wendy_?" Dani's voice now sounded scared.

She started to run, but Officer Smollet grabbed her arms tightly and pulled her back. "Don't," she said. "Sweetheart, you'll only make it worse."  
"I'll never see him again!" wailed Wendy.

"Wendy—Wen, _who_?" Dani again.

"That's not necessarily true," said Officer Smollet with a weary look in her eye. "There will be visiting hours. But you can come to the station now, if you want. I can drive you. If you'd like."

Wendy wiped her eyes and stared at her shoes. "Yes, I'd like that very much."  
Officer Smollet nodded.

"_Wendyyyyyyy_!" shouted Dani into the phone.

Wendy grabbed the phone and put it up to her ear. "There's something horribly, horribly wrong."

"WHAT?! What's wrong?"

Wendy had started crying again. "A cop is giving me a ride to the police station and I was sleeping in Jim's bed and Gaston fell under a bridge last night."  
If Dani was confused before, she was _lost_ now. "Wait, Wendy. Are you high?"  
"I'm going to the police station. Jim got arrested!" Wendy sobbed.

There was one pause before Dani said in a determined voice: "I'm coming to the police station."

"No, no." Wendy's voice sounded nasal from her tears. "It's okay, I'll come over after."  
"I'm your freaking best friend," said Dani flatly. "I'm _coming_. What did Hawkins do this time anyway?"  
Wendy breathed in. "Dani, he's the Crystal Thief."  
"_What_?" Dani gasped.

Wendy hung up the phone.

And then she cried all the way to the police station.

* * *

_A kinda-maybe-sorta date._

_-Ariel_

It was all over the papers.

Sophomore Boy To Be Executed Due To Horrid Crime.

"What did he do anyway?" Andrina drawled, sitting at the table, holding the paper between her wine-colored fingernails. "Murder twenty-seven schoolchildren? Shoot down a nanny? Set Costco on fire?"  
"He stole the Crystal, obv," snapped Aquata.

Ariel buried her face in her hands in a feeble attempt to try and get a grip on things. _Jim Hawkins. How could he have DONE something like this?_

"I never knew Mr. Sexy Waiter had it in him," Alana said with a deep overdramatic sigh. "And he was so cute. I thought maybe he'd ask me out."  
"He has a damn girlfriend," Adella said. "I thought you saw her. In Heidi Cogsworth?"  
"She wasn't _pretty_, though," Alana shot back.

"Looks don't always count," Ariel counterargued, not in the mood, but wanting to shut Alana up.

Fat chance of that.

"In this house," Alana chortled. "Looks are _all_ that matters. You have your looks and you can survive in the world."  
"What about smarts?" demanded Arista from the edge of the table. "Don't they count?"  
Alana smirked. "Maybe in your little world where everyone lives peaceful and happy under a smiley-faced rainbow."  
"That's _not_ my world." Arista said fiercely.

"Oh, yeah?" Alana leaned over the table. "What _is_?"

"Going to college. Living a life!"  
Alana leaned back down. "Oh, puh-_leeze_, Arista. Are you saying I don't have a life?"  
Arista narrowed her pale eyebrows. "Your life isn't worth it."  
"Please stop!" Attina stood up, glaring at Arista. "Arista! What is _with _you? This isn't usually you!"  
"It's that time of month," Arista mumbled. A hasty excuse. Then she slipped away from the table and left.

Attina collapsed back down, looking at Alana's shocked face. Ariel stood, having enough of her sisters. "I'm going to the garden. I need some fresh air."

* * *

In the garden, Adrian Trent was busy shoveling away and planting rosebushes. He was kneeling on the ground, sweaty and disheveled, his knees dirty and his hands gloved.

Ariel smiled and waved as she walked over. "Hi, Adrian."  
"Miss Ariel," he said, straightening up. "What can I do for you?"  
"I just wanted to give you some company," Ariel said, sitting down on a garden bench. Adrian remained standing, looking confused.  
"What's the matter?" Ariel asked, concerned. "Can't I sit down?"  
"No, no!" Adrian gestured for her to remain seated. "It's just—usually when the Triton Girls speak to me its either to yell or to curse or to flirt."  
"Oh."  
"No offense to your sisters."  
"_None taken._" Ariel smiled. "They're really horrible sometimes. Like monkeys."  
Adrian laughed. "Okay, that's one I haven't heard before." He knelt down and began planting the rosebushes. Ariel looked down at them and rested her toes on the ground in a delicate fashion.

"Oh, those are lovely, Adrian," she said.

Adrian looked up and wiped sweat off his brow. Ariel couldn't help but notice his muscles flexing under his sleeves. "Oh, these?" Adrian grinned.

Ariel nodded. "Beware the thorns though."  
Adrian continued planting. "So…er, this may not be a suitable topic of conversation. But how is your boyfriend? I heard your sisters talking about it in the car while I was driving them…?"  
Ariel looked away. "It's none of your damn business."  
Adrian held up both his hands. "Sorry."

Ariel flinched. "Wait, no, _I'm _sorry, Adrian. I'm touchy, aren't I?" She shrugged it off, and bit her lip, trying to act nonchalant. "Isn't that funny, though? Eric and I broke up a while ago."  
Adrian's eyes widened. "My sincere apologies. I didn't mean to bring it up."  
"You were right when you said it wasn't a suitable topic of conversation." Ariel twisted a piece of bright red hair between her thumb and forefinger.

Adrian continued planting. Then suddenly, he rose to his knees again and plucked a bright red rose and held it out to Ariel. Ariel reached for it. "Really?"  
Adrian smirked. "Beware the thorns, though."  
With a hint of a smile, Ariel held the rose carefully on her lap. "It's beautiful. Their my favorite. Besides water lilies."  
Adrian was surprised. "You like water lilies?"  
Ariel shrugged. "I guess so. Yeah. It's something about the water…that entrances me. I guess out of all my sisters, I'm the one who wants to go all the way to the Olympics the most. And I love to be in the water 24/7. Water lilies; defying the rule of sinking and floating. They're so white and pretty, I love them."

Adrian stopped planting. "Hey. You ever been to Sebastian Pond?"  
Ariel shook her head.

Adrian clucked his tongue. "It's a real shame. It's so pretty. Lots of water lilies, beautiful water. Lots of glades and weeping willows. It's a wonderful sight to say. Abundant in wildlife."  
Ariel gasped, and then beamed. "Perhaps…you could take me sometime?"  
Adrian grinned. "Absolutely, Miss Ariel. I would love to. When would you like to go?"  
"As soon as possible."  
Adrian chuckled at her enthusiasm. "How about tonight? This evening, I mean. If you have nothing else to do, we can make it a friendly night out."  
Ariel raised her eyebrows. "Sure, Adrian."  
Adrian smiled. "You look suspicious of my kind gesture."  
Laughing, Ariel reached out and touched his shoulder. "I'm not afraid of you, Adrian. I'm not suspicious either. In fact, I look forward to spending time with you."  
Then she took the rose and skipped back to the house.

* * *

"Eeew, what the hell?" Adella crossed her arms over her chest and pointed at the rose.

It was dry now, and on Ariel's table. "Let me throw it out," Adella said, picking it up gingerly and carrying it like it was a piece of raw fish.

"Hold up, Adella!" Ariel grabbed it back. "Someone _special _gave it to me."  
Adella gasped and pulled up a chair close to Ariel. "_Who_? Is HE good looking?"  
Ariel blushed. "I don't know. I mean, yes! But I shouldn't—"

"Is HE nice? Did he offer to take you anywhere?"  
Ariel turned redder. "Well, yeah. Tonight we have a kind-of-sorta-maybe-date." Then Ariel facepalmed. "Okay, what the _hell_ am I talking about? We're going to go visit someplace. As _friends_."  
"A Triton Girl can never stay friends!" Adella hissed. "Is HE rich?"  
Ariel rubbed her neck. "Uh….yeah! Totally! Loaded with money."  
Adella giggled and bounced up and down. "What's his name?"  
"Adrian," Ariel said without thinking.

Adella frowned. "The _gardener_ Adrian? Eeeew, he's not—"

Ariel shook her head, but regretted the words.

"No, it's not him. It's some other Adrian."  
Adella nodded. "Oh, good. Because it would be _embarrassing_ if it was the gardener Adrian. Right?"  
"Right!" Ariel agreed.

_No_, she thought.

* * *

**Awwww, poor Adrian! There's gonna be some lovely Ariel/Adrian drama soon...I hope! And a Kiss The Girl scene, with Adrian substituting for Eric! Love Adrian! **


	21. The Cell, the Date, and Alice

**Enjoy! **

_It seems the cops don't care whether I actually COMMIT the crime or not—they just want to arrest me. _

_-Jim_

"This is _bullshit_!" Jim yelled as the cops removed his handcuffs and shoved him into a cell. He stumbled against the wall and whirled around angrily to see the officer lock the cell door. Jim flung himself against the bars. "What are you _doing_? I didn't do anything!"  
"So you say," whispered Rhimes. The other officers that had brought Jim had left, and now it was just him, Rhimes, and the cold barred walls that separated them.

"I can take everything that matters to you away," said Rhimes coldly.

Jim clung to the bars. "Well, you're a cop. You can't do that."

"I'm not a cop," said Rhimes, jabbing his finger at a white badge at his chest. "What does this say, boy? It says _Special Agent_."

Anger surged through Jim. He hurled himself against the bar again. "Let me _out of here_, you stupid _ass_hole!"

"Watch your words," said Rhimes with a hideous smile. "I'm more than capable of ruining your life."  
"You can't do _anything _to me," Jim spat, turning away.  
Rhimes grabbed his shoulder tightly between the bars, forcing him to turn around. "I can take away those you love most—unless you confess."  
Jim raised his eyebrows, as if challenging Rhimes. "_Con—fess_?" He spoke it like they were two words to stress the meaning of the words.

"Con—fess," Rhimes said back, enjoying the effect his words had on Jim.

Jim closed his eyes. "Okay. What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean? Is that supposed to _mean_ something?"  
"I KNOW YOU DID SOMETHING!" Rhimes screamed. "WE FOUND THE CRYSTAL IN YOUR DAMN ROOM, BOY, SO YOU BETTER START TALKING _FAST_!"  
"No," Jim said calmly, ignoring Rhimes's hysterics. "I'm telling you the truth. I did nothing."  
"Then _why_," Rhimes said in a deliberately enunciated voice, "did we find the Crystal in your room?"  
"I—" Jim had no idea what to say. He didn't even know his room had been searched.

"No response." Rhimes placed his palms against either side of the cell. "Is that a 'yes, Officer Rhimes, I stole the Crystal?' Is that what you're trying to tell me?"  
"No," Jim said quietly. "I didn't do it."  
Rhimes smirked.

"Please," Jim said, lowering his head, smacking his hands against the walls. "Please believe me. I didn't do _anything_."  
Rhimes looked at him critically for a long time. He hesitated, then he turned away. "I'm sorry Hawkins," he said quietly. "It's out of my hands."  
"What do you _mean_?" Jim cried, grabbing the bars against, fear coursing through his veins.

"The King ordered it."  
"NO!" Jim yelled, slamming the bars repeatedly. "It's _wrong_! I didn't DO anything! Let me GO!"

Rhimes turned around completely and began to leave the holding room. "I'm sorry, Hawkins. I can't—" He looked at Jim again and turned back around. "I'm sorry," he said again slowly, as if that made it better.

"What do you mean?" Jim whispered, knowing what was to come, but praying to God that it wasn't what he thought.

Without turning, Rhimes spoke: "You are to be executed in the public square. Tomorrow itself."  
"You can't—"

The harsh Rhimes was back. He turned to Jim with slitted eyes. "King's orders."

* * *

A while later, Officer Smollet approached him in his cell as if he were a wounded animal ready to attack.

"Mr. Hawkins," she greeted.

Jim, who had been slumped against the far wall, raised his head slowly. "What do you want?"  
"You got some visitors," said Officer Smollet.

Jim looked up slowly. "I don't want to see anybody."  
Officer Smollet was already unlocking the door. "It's Wendy Darling."  
Jim jumped up. "Is she…"  
"Oh, she's a mess. Come see her. Perhaps she will feel better seeing you again."  
Jim practically ran out of the holding room into the waiting room. Wendy was sitting there, her fingers massaging her temples when he arrived.

"Wendy?" he asked softly, walking in.

Wendy looked up. With a gasp, she shot out of the small plastic chair, knocking it over as she ran to Jim. She wrapped her arms around him. "Jim."  
He hugged her back.

"Are you okay?" Wendy asked, her voice breathless.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Jim said. "But there's some stuff I have to tell you. Let's sit down, okay?"  
Jim himself was quavering so bad he didn't think he could get the words out. In Wendy, what he could see was grace and love and most of all, a perfect angelic innocence that you couldn't find in most girls nowadays. Her wide blue eyes and curious face added to her innocence. Jim sucked in air. "They think I did something bad," said Jim, trying to figure out where the hell to begin his story.

Wendy nodded. "I know you didn't do it. We just have to find out who did."  
"Well, you'll have to do it in one day."  
"What?" Wendy was shocked. "Wait, your trial is tomorrow?" She bit her lip. "I can ask around. I bet we can find a lawyer. My dad can pay for it—"

"Wendy, no. Listen to me." Jim's voice was gentle, but he had no idea how to say this. Instead he got up and began to pace, running a hand through his hair.

"Baby," Wendy stood up, now worried. "Jim, what is it?"

Jim shook his head. "I have no idea how to tell you this. This is such bullshit."  
"_What_ is?"  
Jim looked at her.

Wendy stamped her foot. "Tell me!"  
He didn't know how. His mouth wouldn't form the words. His tongue was lead. His lips were stitched together. He was a mime, unable to speak. He was trapped in a glass box and Wendy was on the outside, waving her arms, lost in the fray. He could only desperately signal to her and prayed she understood.

A single tear slid down Wendy's cheek. "Please tell me."  
He tried again to open his mouth, and a croaking noise escaped. He tried to clear his throat. Something felt lodged securely down there. The words were trapped, sealed down in his heart. He couldn't get them out.  
"Jim!" Wendy insisted. "_Now_! I don't have much time left. I need to find Dani and we need to figure out how to get you out of this crap."  
"Five minutes, Mr. Hawkins!" called Officer Smollet.

"I—" Jim couldn't. The words were unable to be spoken by him. It was impossible.

"Jim?" Wendy looked worried. "You alright?"  
"THEY'RE GONNA KILL ME!" Jim yelled at the top of his lungs. It seemed time froze up. Wendy's eyes widened to the size of dinnerplates. "_What_?" she whispered, totally shocked out of her mind.

"Tomorrow," Jim said calmly. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm dead. No more Jim Hawkins. They're gonna kill me for something I didn't even do."  
"H-how are they gonna _do_ that?" Wendy spluttered. "They don't have any _evidence_. They can't just—"

"THEY DON'T NEED ANY DAMN EVIDENCE!" Jim shouted. "They're pinning this on me because I'm the one closest to their frickin'…_paws_!"  
"Jim…." Wendy reached for him.

He twisted away. "I love you, Wendy."  
Officer Smollet had started to enter.

He turned and grabbed her arms. "I want you to know I love you. Don't give up."  
Wendy burst into tears. "Ohmygod! This is just_ horrible_!"  
Jim shook his head, watching the officers advance. He looked down at Wendy. "I know I wasn't much of a role model or anything. I wasn't a smart kid, or a good kid, even. I wasn't a hero, I just wanted to have fun forever. But I always thought I'd have a longer life to live to fix my mistakes." His eyes turned dark. "I guess not, huh?"  
"They're not going to kill you!" Wendy hissed. "I'll get in the way."  
Officers grabbed Jim's arms, wrenching him back towards the door. "That's my speech!" Jim yelled, trying to keep his voice light and happy. "Bye, Wendy. I love you."  
"I love you, too," Wendy whispered. "And Jim?"  
He didn't reply, he was gone from view.

But even behind the walls, he heard what Wendy said:

"You're _my_ hero."

And then Jim Hawkins began to cry.

* * *

_You know what they say: one second you're feeling happy and beautiful, the next second you're in serious trouble. _

_-Cindy_

"Hello?"  
The voice that answered the phone was rich and marvelous and sweet, just like the voice of Char at the party.

"Char?"  
The male voice sounded confused. "Yeah. Why? Who is this?"  
"Oh, ehm, this is uh…" Cindy trailed off. "Remember me? From the Triton Girls' party? I gave you my number."  
Silence on the other end.

Cindy swallowed. It had taken her forever to muster enough courage to call Char. After Peter had stolen her iPhone back for her, she had to wait till Peter, Anastasia, Drisella and Lady Tremaine had left town to go shopping to call Char. "I fell. You caught me just before I fell. Remember?"  
_Please remember. I can't tell you my name. _

"Oh!" Recognition lit up in Char's voice. "The girl I offered a ride…just before you ran off with your friend to go home, right?"  
"Totally!" Cindy was practically giddy. "That's me!"  
"I never did get your name." It was a question in disguise.

"My name." Cindy scratched her head. "I'm Anastasia Tremaine."  
"Cool. Any nickname I can call you? Anastasia is kind of a mouthful."  
"Ana is fine," Cindy said softly.

"Cool," Char said again. "Would you like to meet up today, Ana?"  
Cindy blinked. _Today_? Well, Lady Tremaine would be staying in town all day today with relatives. So she had the day to herself. "Yes!"  
Char laughed. "Glad you're enthusiastic. Where would you like to meet me?"

Cindy rushed to the window and peered out. What was a café not too far from her street? "Yellow Stars Diner," she requested. "I love the food there. I hope it's not too far from where you are, Char."  
"No, no, no trouble." Char chuckled. "I'll meet you this evening, Ana. Till then."  
"Till then," Cindy—Ana—echoed, and hung the phone, her mind in a misty haze.

* * *

Anastasia wouldn't notice if I borrowed a dress, thought Cindy. The white lace with the blue vest. Maybe. With the brown belt?  
She reached out. Perhaps the rainforest green dress. It was very short, but perhaps Char liked that sort of thing.

Cindy stroked a pink one. It was soooo soft, but down to her ankles. Much too dressy-dressy for a simple get-together with Char. Suddenly she gasped. The one she liked was a beautiful white lace top with a pink miniskirt that flared out. And she decided to team it with that brown belt. She quickly dressed and brushed out her hair, applying Anastasia's various hairsprays to make it look pretty. To make her look _rich_. Like a girl named Anastasia Tremaine would look. Not just a plain old Cinderella.

Cindy curled her hair and put on a pair of Anastasia's white flats and then started walking to the Yellow Stars Diner.

When she got in there, no one saw her as the lowly servant girl in tattered rags who fetched fresh chicken eggs and milk from the marketplace. They saw her as a lady.

Lady Anastasia Tremaine.

The little bell on the top of the Yellow Stars door clanged, and Cindy turned to spot Char come in, wearing casual clothing. Cindy glanced down. Was she too dressy? She had never gone on a date, not once in her life.

She smiled at Char. "Hi, Char!"  
Char turned around, and he laughed in relief. "Oh, Ana. I'm so glad to see you. I was feeling a little idiotic wandering around."  
Cindy smiled warmly. "Want to sit down?"  
Char nodded. "Yeah, absolutely."  
The one thing Cindy could _not_ get used to was Char calling her "Ana." It reminded her that she was playing a dangerous game—pretending to be someone she most certainly was not.

The evening at Yellow Stars was the most fun Cindy had ever had. She and Char clicked immediately, and he had bought her delicious food with foreign exotic tastes weaved in. Foods hard like rocks that she had to saw with her fork, food soft as butter, and multicolored drinks that had fruity aftertastes.

Suddenly, Cindy's iPhone vibrated with a text. She grabbed her purse off the ground. "Excuse me," she said to Char. "My phone…I have to take this."

"Sure!" Char said. "No problem. Dessert?"  
"I really can't ask that of you," Cindy said witih a shake of her head. "I'll have to skip dessert."

Char shrugged. "Whatever you say, Ana."

_Ana_. _Call me Cindy_. But Cindy just got up and moved to the back of the diner and looked at her text.

**Hey, the wicked witch of the west is staying at her brother's in the city. But I'm comin home, k? is dinner ready? –P**

Cindy blinked in surprise. So Lady Tremaine, Anastasia and Drisella were gone. But Peter was coming back. She lowered her fingers to the keypad.

**Peter, I am a date with a guy. I was getting ready all day no time to make any food. So just make urself dinner, k? ill be home b4 11. Love ya! Bye**

Peter didn't respond, so Cindy assumed he had gotten the message. She walked back to Char.

"I already paid," Char said. "What do you want to do next?"  
"I'll go anywhere you want to go," said Cindy sweetly.

"Great, how about a movie?"  
Cindy grinned. She had never set foot in a movie theater, but now was the time to do it.

"Let's go, Ana. We're gonna have so much fun." Char said.

"That's me," Cindy said softly, watching the superhot guy walk towards his car. "Ana Tremaine."

* * *

_I remember when we kissed in the backyard._

_-Peter_

The car rolled up to the driveway.

_What the hell_? Peter thought. He was lying in a hammock, staring out at the expensive car. A girl got out, a chaffeur opening the door for her.

She was about as tall as Peter, if not a little shorter. Her hair was long and blonde, she had cornflower blue eyes and wore a tiny dress. She flounced to the front door. With a sigh, Peter slid off the hammock and went to her. "Excuse me," he said. "You have the wrong house number."  
The girl gasped, shocked, and turned around. "No, I'm sure I don't," she said with a shake of her head. "I'm Alice. I'm Cindy's cousin. You're…_Peter_!"

Peter scratched the back of his neck. Then suddenly, recognition dawned on him. "_Alice_?"

Alice laughed. "Fancy meeting you here, Peter! _So _great to see you again!"  
Peter remembered Alice. She was Cindy's little rich-girl cousin. The two had a great cousin bond, and Cindy always asked her to visit while Lady Tremaine and the two wicked stepdaughters were out of town. Alice was pretty, sweet, loved cats, and romance. And she hated books without pictures, and schooling. She was easily the biggest daydreamer Peter knew. And she had a bad habit of wandering off.

Peter leaned back against the wall. _Damn_, _Alice was really pretty_. "What grade you in now?"  
Alice rang the doorbell again. "I'm a freshman, actually." She rang the doorbell yet again. "Oh, my, isn't there anyone in this house?" She rapped the window. "Cindy?"  
Peter touched her shoulder. "Cindy's out on a date. I don't think she was expecting you today."  
"Oh, my!" Alice blushed. "I thought it was today."  
"She'd love to have you," Peter said. "And me too."

Alice blushed fire-engine red again. "Oh, alright, then, Peter."  
Peter opened the door and bowed low to the ground. "Welcome. To my humble abode."


	22. Kiss The Girl and Fire Extinguishers

**Hey everybody! Is everyone having an AWESOME Spring Break? I hope so! Okay, so finally I can get back to updating more regularly because SCHOOL IS OUT! As you can see, I am clearly very excited for this. And I'm working hard on the Crystal Thief, and delighted with the reviews, PMs, favorites, and follows! :) **

**So right now, based on some PMs and requests, I am seriously pondering what to write after the Crystal Thief is done. Sadness. When I type in the ending of the Crystal Thief, I will cry, because I have really grown to love this story, and all who gave me their kind reviews. Okay, I am seriously being overly-mushy right now so I'll just shut up. So if anybody has any requests on what I should write next, you can PM me! Or if you are not a member, you can review it. But you don't have to. It's up to you guys! **

**Okay! So here are all the POVs I have so far. **

**-Jim, Wendy, Ariel, Peter, Kida, Adrian, Dani (I will be adding her POV soon), Flynn, Meg, Hades, and I will hopefully be adding Alice as well. If anyone wants Esmeralda and FROLLO drama, PM or review it! Because it sounds cool. **

**I think that's all the POVs...did I miss any? *mentally scans through the Crystal Thief and prays I didn't miss any to make myself feel like an idiot***

**REPLY TO COMMENTS: **

**ScoobyDoo: Lol, Adrian. I will work on getting Hades back up in the game. And Dani and Flynn, definitely. **

**LittleBlackSwan: Thanks! **

**AvrilLambert: Ikr. Oooh, looks like you figured out Peter's new love. **

**Kieran: Thanks, cuzin! Esmeralda/Phoebus/Frollo drama….I will hopefully make that happen, if I get enough requests and a chance to do so. **

**COMEANDGETIT: Awwww thanks! Adrian is pretty awesome, I agree. This chapter is FULL of Adrianosity, so enjoy! **

**DemiBrackensick: Thanks, sweetie! **

**Flying By Wire: Thanks for your awesome and enthusiastic and MOTIVATIONAL reviews! **

**I'm sorry, guys, for the REALLY LONG Author's Note. Well, enjoy the chapter! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters but Adrian Trent. **

* * *

_What an evening._

_-Ariel _

That evening, the Triton Girls ate a hasty dinner. It was Thursday, school was canceled tomorrow due to the execution of the Crystal Thief. The girls were nervous for the execution, especially Adella, who hated blood and violence.

Attina claimed she had a study date at the library. Andrina had a hair-and-nails appointment at Briar Rose spa. The other girls were planning to stay in and watch a movie, but Ariel was tensing over her kinda-maybe-sorta date with Adrian. She twisted the dry rose between her thumb and forefinger and poked at her corn.

"Ariel, you okay, hon?" Andrina was collecting the plates to dump in the sink. Ariel nodded. "I gotta go somewhere, though. Date. With a guy."  
"_Adrian_," teased Adella.

"Wait—the _gardener _Adrian?" cried Andrina. "Have you lost your freaking mind?"

"_Nawt_ him," Adella defended Ariel, shaking her head. "Another Adrian. A hot, rich dude. Where does he live?"  
Ariel pushed back, dumped her own plate, still full of her dinner, in the sink for Meredith to clean in the morning. "Gotta go," she muttered and ran upstairs to the room she shared with Arista. Arista was all packed and ready to spend the night with Robbie. She grabbed her red suitcase and was sitting there in a large Taft Academy red sweatshirt. She smiled at Ariel, weakly. "Enjoy dinner?"  
"It was fine, as much as dinners with our sisters go," Ariel said with a sigh. "You ready to leave to Robbie's?"  
Arista nodded. "Yeah, I am. I'll...see you later? Tomorrow."  
"At the execution."  
Arista looked pained. "Yeah, totally. Enjoy your date with this..._Adrian_ of yours."  
Ariel smiled softly and headed out the door. Suddenly, Arista reached out and grabbed Ariel's arm. "And I know who Adrian is."  
Ariel decided to play it cool. "Huh? What do you mean? Have you seen him around?"  
Arista chuckled, running her fingertips over her stomach. "_Yeah_, in the _garden_."

Ariel froze. Arista smiled. "Adrian, our gardener. Right?"  
Now totally surprised, Ariel sat down and began to massage her temples. "You can't tell anybody, Arista."  
Her sister looked seriously at Ariel. "I'm a Triton girl, and Robbie's a nerd. He's not too rich either. But I'm not embarrassed of him."

Ariel looked away. "Spare me the lecture."  
Arista frowned. "You shouldn't be afraid to tell the girls about Adrian, and who he really is."  
Ariel smacked the bedsheets. "Says the girl who's _running away _to live with her boyfriend."  
"That is because of my _pregnancy_!" Arista cried. "Not because I'm afraid of telling the girls about Robbie."  
Ariel sighed. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry. Live your life. But you can't tell anybody about Adrian. Not yet. In fact, I'm not even sure our relationship is for real anyway."

"And if it is?" Arista raised her pale eyebrows.

Ariel shrugged. "We'll see."

* * *

"I'll need to blindfold you."  
Ariel looked in surprise at Adrian. "_What_? Why?"  
He smiled. "I want the pond to be a surprise. You're gonna love it, trust me."  
Ariel smiled too. "Okay."

Adrian wrapped the blindfold over Ariel's eyes, knotting it in the back. "Is that too tight?" he asked gently.

Ariel laughed. "No, it's fine, Adrian."  
"Okay," Adrian said. "Grab my hand, alright? I'm gonna lead you forward. Watch your step though."  
Ariel saw only darkness through the blindfold, but gripped Adrian's hand tightly as he led her forward. "Wait, stop!" he said quickly. "Duck down...watch your head right here."

Ariel ducked, narrowly missing a log above her head. Adrian led her forward, her fingers still clasping his. "Wait, let me move something. Stay here."  
Ariel nodded, leaning back against something solid. A tree? She didn't know...she felt blind, but excited. She felt rushes of ecstasy move along with her blood through her veins. She heard Adrian's footsteps in front of her, and she reached for his arm. He grabbed her hands and helped her up again. Ariel followed. "Right through here," Adrian said. "Careful, watch your step. Step down."  
Ariel complied, and her foot hit soft moss, like a cozy wild mattress. "Oooh, where _are_ we?" Ariel breathed. She smelled woodland.

Adrian continued to lead her forward, and finally, he stopped. "Hold up, Ariel," he said. He grabbed her around the waist with his hands and picked her up slowly, stepping into something that creaked. It wobbled, and Ariel let out a little squeak, grabbing for Adrian's arms.  
"It's okay," Adrian said softly, setting her down on a seat.

"Can I take off the blindfold now?" Ariel asked with an inquisitive smile.

Adrian shook his head. "Not yet." Ariel heard water flowing around her, and the sound of paddling. They were in a boat. She had no idea where they were going. She gripped the sides, and inhaled deeply. She loved water, loved to swim. It was her real and true passion.

"Almost there." Adrian continued to paddle forward.

Ariel felt tickling on her neck and back. "Adrian, what is that?" She giggled.

She heard Adrian chuckling. "Ferns."

A little more time passed, then Adrian spoke. "You can take off your blindfold now."  
Ariel reached for the knot and loosened it, sliding it off, her eyes taking some time to adjust. She looked around, and let out a sharp intake of breath in a gasp of awe.

Fireflies hung in the air like floating jewels. Water glistened around them in the heavenly moonlight. The water looked shallow, with silver pebbles glittering on the bottom, trees framed the pond. But most beautiful was the water lilies crowding the water.

Ariel stood up in the boat, rocking it. She gasped. "Ohmy_god_!"

Adrian smiled, his smile twisting up in a cute way to one side. "Do you...do you like it?"  
Ariel laughed. "I..._love_ it! This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. Can I wade in the water?"

Adrian shrugged. "Sure. But there are some deep spots, so be careful."  
Excited, Ariel jumped into the water and began to wade, waist deep, picking up water lilies and watching water stream from the roots. She stroked the silky white petals. "They're beautiful!"  
Ariel continued to wade forward. Suddenly, her feet slipped out from under her as she hit a deep spot, and she fell underwater, losing her breath and inhaling water for a few moments in shock.

"Ariel!" Adrian jumped into the water, waded forward, and ducked under, trying to locate her bright red hair, her petite body dancing underwater.

She burst above the surface, pushing her red hair out of her face and coughing up pond water that tasted of plants.

She swam to the bank and crawled on, freezing. "Adrian!" she yelled, losing sight of him under the water.

He burst above the surface as well, swimming to her and sitting next to her, sopping wet. "You okay?" he breathed.

"Yeah," Ariel said with a laugh. "Sorry I didn't listen to your warning."  
"It's fine if you know how to swim."  
Ariel laughed again. "You have no idea. I plan on going into Olypmic swimming."  
Adrian raised his eyebrows. "Well then. There was no need for me to save you." Then he smiled.

Ariel smiled too. She ran back into the water, splashing Adrian, who was still sitting on shore. He followed her in, splashing her back. There was only the screams, as Ariel dogpaddled around and splashed him.

The frogs, ducks, and fish seemed to be serenading the two as they played in Sebastian's Pond. Ariel dunked Adrian under the surface, and he pulled her down too. Ariel broke away, giggling, and tried to swim for the boat again. Adrian grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up into the air. That's when he got a good look at Ariel's face.

He looked at her eyes. Those Triton Girl eyes, that made you feel small, and seduced you. Those long lashes that hit her high defined cheekbones. Her tan skin, her muscly arms, her curvy figure. Waterdrops glistening on her bare skin. Her lips full and kissable. She was easily the prettiest out of all the Triton Girls. Adrian reached up and smoothed the side of Ariel's face.

And she sank into him.

Ariel sank deeper and deeper into Adrian. Their lips danced silently, wet with water and desire. Adrian's tongue begged for passage into Ariel's mouth, and she delightedly parted her lips to let Adrian's tongue enter. Their tongues smashed together between mouths, and they made little moans as Adrian kissed her hard. Adrian started to walk forward, but stepped into a deep spot and they sank underwater. They continued to kiss passionately, Adrian's hands rubbing up and down Ariel's torso with desire to get into her clothing, to touch her skin, to feel the smoothness and the sweetness and the beauty. To taste what Ariel Triton was made of.

Ariel kissed back harder, weaving their mouths together, the two of them becoming one person as they kissed.

Adrian carried her back to the boat, and they laid down, between the hard wooden seats to kiss. Adrian pulled Ariel's shirt up over her head, revealing just her pink lacy bra. He loved it, every piece of her and pressed his lips over her mouth, but gently, so he wouldn't hurt her.

Ariel cradled his face in her hands and squeezed his face hard between her soft fingers. She grabbed his pants and yanked them off. Without removing his lips from her mouth, he unbuttoned his own shirt.

Ariel broke the kiss and gulped sweet woodland air, staring at his sexy six-pack, his muscly torso.

Adrian reached down and touched the top of Ariel's underwear, his other hand skimming her bra strap as his lips reached for hers again.

"Adrian," Ariel said quietly, gesturing down to her panties. "Not now. Not here."  
Adrian nodded respectfully. "Absolutely. I understand."  
Ariel grinned. "But we can still kiss." With a sigh, once again, she reached deep into Adrian to feel who he was. Their lips joined again, and Sebastian Pond was silent once again—as if nothing had happened.

Ariel laid on Adrian's chest, and they counted stars above their heads. Ariel curled into Adrian, and she was feeling warm and tingly all over. Adrian held her. "I've always loved you," he whispered. "I just chose to never say so."

"I wish you had," Ariel replied. "I wasted my life with Eric. And he's with some slut named Vanessa now."  
"Sorry." Adrian tightened his grip around Ariel's waist. "But...you know, at first, I didn't even like any of you Triton Girls. Everyone said what sluts you were, and I didn't want to believe likewise about you. But can I just ask you a question?"  
Ariel wasn't exactly sure about Adrian's question. But she nodded her consent, settling in on Adrian's stomach.

"Am I just one of your..._playthings_?"  
Ariel was so taken aback by the question, she couldn't move. She looked up in shock. "Eh-_excuse_ me?"  
"Sorry if I offended you," Adrian said, his mouth a grim line. "I've talked to the guys around town. They say you play them, then drop them."  
"You talked to _Eric_?"  
"He said all you cared about was sex."  
"I never—"

"He said it was all about touching and kissing with you. That the love wasn't real."  
"I NEVER LOVED ERIC!" Ariel screamed, sitting up and grabbing Adrian's face. "I love _you_, Adrian."  
He frowned. "Like you haven't said that to Eric."  
"Why were you talking to Eric?"  
Adrian shrugged. "We're friends. His dad was a sailor, and Eric and I used to carry rope, wood, e.t.c. for him when we worked by the docks. Before I worked for your father."  
Ariel stepped out of the boat. "You're a jerk."  
"For talking to Eric?"  
Ariel started to march off. Her argument sounded weak and stupid, but she didn't give a crap. She was done.

"Ariel, I don't believe him." Adrian started to climb out of the boat. "Ariel, I just want to hold on to a relationship for once. Do I have that chance with you? Can I hold onto you?"  
Ariel had begun sobbing, thinking of asshole Eric again. "He's..he's_ lying_, Adrian," she cried, tears running down her face. "Sex isn't what my mind is on. I'm not even like the other Triton Girls!"

She remembered what Arista had said in the bathroom: _I know some people call us "The Triton Girls" behind our backs. I don't want to be known that way. I want to be known as Arista Triton. My own person. I don't want to be grouped with THEM like we're sticks of gum in a pack._

"I'm different from _them_," Ariel said, not turning around. "And you know us. You know how different I am from them. They're...they're frickin' man-hungry _cannibals_, that's what they are."  
"Take it easy, Ariel," Adrian soothed, still standing far away from her. "Look, I just want to hold onto a relationship, like I said. I was hoping that girl could be you. Okay? I have nothing against you. I just wanted an honest answer."  
"You're not my plaything." Ariel put her hands on her hips. "I like you. A _lot_. I might even love you, okay? And I don't want you to break up with me badly, leave me in the dust, cheat on me with a prostitute."  
"No," Adrian agreed. "I would never."  
Ariel buried her face in her hands. Adrian heard her crying. He always thought of the Triton Girls to be crafted from stone, bone, and diamonds. The strongest substances on earth. They didn't cry, they only broke and shattered other people.

Ariel's sobs were quiet and sad. He walked towards her slowly. He wanted to believe her, soothe her, tell her everything was going to be okay.

He wrapped his arms around her and let her cry into his shirt. He ran his hands through her hair. "It's okay," he said softly to her. "Ariel, I'm sorry."  
"No, _I _am." Ariel's nose sounded stuffy through his shirt. "I'm a bi—"

"You're not." Adrian held her close. He tilted her face up gently, but she wouldn't look at him. Her face was embarrassed. "I'm sorry you had to see me cry."  
Adrian laughed. "Look at me, Ariel."  
She did, and he leaned down and kissed her gently. "I'll never hurt you," he whispered.

That moment, right there, was the one Ariel would forever treasure. It was a moment she would never let go of, as long as she lived.

* * *

_Epic. Peter. Fail._

_-Peter_

"Want to watch a movie?" Peter looked at Alice, who smiled. "Sure. Which ones do you have?"  
"You can look through the stack on the shelf," Peter told her. "Want to have popcorn too?"  
Alice nodded excitedly. "You know how to make it? I've never even had it."  
Peter had no clue. "Yeah, I'm practically the Great Popcorn Chef," he said. _What the hell?  
_Alice shrugged. "Okay. I'll pick out a movie, you make the popcorn, okay?"  
Peter nodded his consent and headed into the kitchen. Cindy usually made the popcorn for the Stepsisters' Friday Night movie. He glanced around the kitchen. There wasn't a recipe for popcorn anywhere.

_Dammit, Peter, get a hold of yourself. It's easy! You just need popcorn kernels, some oil, some butter, and some salt. It's got to be the easiest thing to make ever._

Peter pulled out a saucepan, taking a deep breath and turned on the stove to medium high. He tried to remember how Cindy made it.

He dumped a few spoonfuls of oil into the saucepan and began to let that heat. _Now_, he thought. _How many kernels should I dump into the pan?  
_He decided all of it. Even if Alice didn't eat, he could eat some and feed the rest to Lucifer. Hopefully, the cat would choke on it and die.

He dumped the entire bag of kernels into the pan. The popping noise was deafening. As the popcorn popped out of control and landed all over the floor, Peter had a feeling he did something wrong. He tried to find a lid, rumaging through cabinets, but he couldn't find any lids.

Wait. AHA! There was a lid, hidden behind all the others.

"Gotcha!" Peter yelled triumphantly and grabbed the lid. As he yanked it out of the cupboard, containers fell all around him. One plate shattered. The popcorn continued to pop, and suddenly, fire burst forth from under the pan of popcorn, spreading to the curtains. The popcorn seemed to be okay, though the curtains were smoldering. Smoke drifted towards the ceiling, and the fire alarm activated.

"Oh, hell no!" Peter yelled, grabbing the popcorn and pulling it off the stove. It was all but set on fire. He tried to desperately jiggle the pan to get the popcorn to calm down.

"_Peter_?" Alice popped her head in the kitchen, and began to cough. Smoke drifted through, and the fire alarm was blaring. Peter laid the pan of popped kernels on the kitchen countertop, smashed the lid onto the top, kicked the fallen pots and pans aside, and grabbed Alice's hand. "Get out of the kitchen!"  
"Is there a _fire_?" Alice looked horrified. "The popcorn, Peter, the popcorn!"  
"No one cares about the popcorn!" Peter shouted back, trying to get ahold of his thoughts.

"Water!" Alice cried, the lightbulb turning on in his brain first. "And stop that horrid alarm, _please_!"  
"You open the windows!" Peter commanded. "All of them. And grab towels and start waving them around to get rid of the smoke. That will stop the alarm. I'll get the fire extinguisher!"  
He ran back to the kitchen, into a hidden cabinet, trying to wave away the gray smoke, and grabbed the bright red fire extinguisher. He grabbed the nozzle, pointed it at the source of the fire. The curtains. With a yell fit to beat Tarzan, he put out the fire, leaving the curtains burnt, wet, and stringy.

_Mother is going to FREAK. _Screw her, Peter thought angrily, and pointed the nozzle at the stove to put out what else there might be. When the fire was all put out, he shoved the fire extinguisher back into the cabinet and ran upstairs to Alice. She had quieted the fire alarm and waved almost all the smoke out through the open windows which let in fresh air.

"Oh, my!" Alice stared at Peter with wide eyes.

Peter let out a breath, soot and ash covering his face, his clothes wet from the fire extinguisher.

Alice burst into laughter, bending over. Ripples of uncontrollable giggles escaped her mouth. Soon she was wheezing, and had to sit down, clutching her middle. Her laughter was contagious, and Peter started laughing too. Epic Peter Fail right there. And trying to make popcorn!

"Still up for that movie?" he asked Alice when their laughter had subsided.

Alice nodded. "I picked out a good one—the Sound of Music. Do you like Julie Andrews?"  
"Big fan," Peter said flatly. In truth, he didn't know who Julie Andrews was, but he joined Alice for the movie anyway.

Something flashed in his mind as the movie started.

He rushed back to the kitchen and grabbed a red clay bowl.

When he came back, he was dressed in clean clothes and carrying a big bowl.

"Huh?" Alice asked. "What's this, Peter?"  
Peter grinned. "Popcorn."

* * *

**Okay, I seriously actually loved this chapter. I loved Peter's epic fail, and thought it would be like him to totally panic and everything. Hope you guys really liked it! And the AdrianXAriel thing, hope you guys loved that too! **

**Please review! The sight of one in my email inbox makes me SOOO happy. Enjoy! I'll probably post another chapter tomorrow, if I can. And remember...Esmeralda and Frollo? Comment asking for it, and I'll do it! If there are no comments, we'll just stick to our regular storyline. :P**

**Byeeeeeeee! **


	23. The Bimbettes, the Truth, and the Priest

**Hey guys! Sorry I'm late with the update. I really enjoy writing this story! And I might be doing a Treasure Planet fanfiction and posting it later on—but only after the Crystal Thief is all done. Please be sure to check it out when I DO post it. **

**THANKS TO THOSE WHO COMMENTED:**

**Rovio Wheel**

**Flying By Wire**

**TheLonelyMonstersCompanion**

**Avril Lambert**

**You guys, please continue reviewing! I'm up to 150 reviews now, which makes me SO happy I am just over here crying. Thank you so much! Keep reviewing, all you lovely people!**

**Disclaimer: I'm sure we know that I don't own Disney by now. I only own Dani Spark. ****J**

**Oh, and if I don't update in over two weeks, I have been eaten by a giant sea monster. Lol. **

* * *

_I just don't believe it._

_-Meg_

"How in the _hell_!" yelled Meg at the top of her lungs. "Can this be _happening_? Huh? Tell me that! What did he do?"  
"He stole the Crystal," said Holli, leaning against the wall. Esme, Quasi, and Phoebus looked unconcerned, but a little freaked at the harsh ruling of the Agents.

Meg massaged her temples with her spindly fingers. "No, no. He's a _minor_!"  
"What, minors are innocent?" Holli raised her thin blonde eyebrows.

"No!" Meg said again, getting frustrated with Holli.

"Meg, if this is about your time in jail—" Esmeralda began.

"Ugh, shut the hell up!" Meg snapped. "I'm trying to make a point here."  
"Will you be getting to that point today?" Phoebus demanded, annoyed. Meg raised her hands slowly, palms up, and began to slowly count to ten.

Holli, Esme, and Phoebus exchanged weird looks. Quasi stood up from his perch on a concrete block. "Guys," he said in his softspoken way. "Give Meg some time to speak."

"Thank you, Quasi." Meg said. Then she looked up at her group. "I feel it in my gut," she said softly. "This kid didn't commit the crime. I spoke to him before. He came around looking for Flynn and Gaston, and we just hung out and talked in front of Bronson."  
Esme looked at Meg curiously. "And what?"

"He _didn't do it_. I can tell. I confronted him, and he had nothing to do with it. He was so confused he got mad at me."  
"Maybe you're his next victim," purred Holli. "Maybe he was just mad you knew."  
"No, no, _no_, that's not right," Meg said. "He's honest and open. He's not a bad kid, really."  
"Uh, he hangs out at Bronson," Esmeralda pointed out. "How can he _not _be a bad kid?"  
"He's under the influence of Flynn Rider and Gaston Abinford. How can he _not_ _come _to Bronson?" Meg shot back.

Esmeralda put her hands on her hips. "Okay, seriously, Meg. Your imagination is running away with you. Let's grab hold of reality here. If the Agents want to pin the blame on someone, they wouldn't do it on a good kid. They look at criminal records, you know. Before the  
interrogation."  
"Suuuuure they do." Meg narrowed her eyes. "He's not a bad kid."

"You know how we're gonna settle this?" Phoebus piped up. "Let's go talk to those blonde girls."  
Holli picked up a can of beer off the ground. "What blonde girls?"  
"You know, those girls!" Phoebus waved his hands, trying to get the rest of them to remember. "The blonde ones that have the inside scoop on everything and everyone. I slept with one of them once—her name was Laura. Anybody remember the other names?"  
"I know all the prostitutes in this area," Holli responded. "I don't know any named Laura."  
"She stopped sleeping with men," Phoebus said. "Which is a big step for her. They work as maids in Bronson."  
"They're the ones always mooning over guys," Meg realized. "I forgot their names too."  
"You mean the Bimbettes?" Quasi raised an eyebrow.

"You slept with one of the _Bimbettes_?" Esmeralda cried, turning to Phoebus.

"They're just as slutty as you," Phoebus responded, ignoring Esme's enraged and crushed face.

"Let's go," Meg said. "They'll know all about Jim Hawkins." She glared at Holli. "And we'll settle this dispute: is Jim Hawkins bad or good?"  
"And then what?" Esme asked. "What if he's innocent?"  
"I'm revolting against the government system," Meg said simply. "They're not gonna kill him while I'm alive. This can't happen to another person. They can't have the same fate as me."

* * *

"Jim _Hawkins_?" the Bimbette in the green dress gasped. "Oh. My. Gosh! Yes, we heard about that in the morning papers! What a shame, he was really hot."  
"Really _really_ hot," Red responded, shaking her head sadly, making her long blonde ponytail flip over her bare shoulder.

Yellow was busy sweeping up behind the counter. "I wish they would let him live."  
"What are your thoughts on him?" Meg asked, leaning against the countertops.

Phoebus looked uncomfortably at Yellow. She was Laura, the one he had slept with.  
"Wait," said Holli. "You used to sleep around, right? Who's a good guy to sleep with?"  
_Damn Holli. Of course she'd turn this right around and relate it to sex._

"Oh!" squealed Laura. "Well, hmmm. Paula, what do _you_ think?" She gave Esmeralda a look up and down. "You need to pull up your bra."

Esmeralda eyed Laura warily. "At least I _own_ one."  
Laura let out a loud false laugh. "Anyway. You guys know me, and my sister—the one in the red dress is Claudia. And the one in the green is Paula."

"Thanks for telling us that," Esmeralda said. "Practically changed my life."  
The Bimbettes ignored her and smiled at Phoebus, waggling their fingers.

"Tell me what your thoughts are on Jim Hawkins," Meg said, requesting an amber beer from Laura, who complied and began to hand out beer cans to everyone, except for Esmeralda, who rolled her eyes and declined.

"Thoughts?" Claudia blinked.

"Of course," Esme hissed. "They don't have thoughts. They're brainless idiots."  
"Awww, Esme." Holli giggled. "Sorry, gals, Esme is just jealous because Laura slept with Phoebus."  
Both Phoebus and Laura turned bright red and Esme rolled her eyes at Holli, but the rest of the sisters dissolved into giggles.

"Shut up," Meg commanded. "Tell me _about_ Jim Hawkins."  
"Are you his stalker?" Paula asked, sweeping the countertop.

"Ooohh, no _waaaay_!" Claudia began to giggle.

"_I _used to stalk him," Laura nodded.

"I—am—not—his—stalker." Meg enunciated, getting sick and tired of these dumb blondes.

"She just wants to know what kind of person he is, as a whole," Quasi chimed in.

"As a whole?" Laura stopped sweeping. "Huh?"

"What does _that_ mean?" Claudia asked.

"As an individual?" Laura guessed. "Who he is as a person, right?"

"She's smarter than the other two," Holli commented.

"That's why I slept with _her_," said Phoebus with a tiny grin. Esmeralda smacked him on the arm.

"Ohhhh, as an _individual_," Claudia and Paula chorused. "Oh, okay."  
"Okay," Meg said through gritted teeth, trying to balance her thoughts. "Go ahead."  
"He's polite," said Paula slowly, as if thinking. "He always has a girlfriend. But he has trouble holding onto relationships. He breaks up with the girls quickly. But when he swings by, he's polite. He's always pure when he has a girlfriend, and sticks to it. No drinks, no smokes. Just talks to his guyfriends."  
"Gaston, right?" Claudi checked. "One of his guyfriends?"

"Yeah!" Laura giggled. "Hottie alert!"

"Back to Jim Hawkins!" Meg broke their conversation. "Tell me. Does he get in trouble a lot when you see him?"  
"Well, we've had a few deep conversations," Claudia said. "I don't think he liked me very much, though. I mean, as girlfriend material."  
"Who could have guessed," Esmeralda grumbled.

"_Esme_!" hissed Meg. "Please."

"Anyway, he never got into much trouble with the law, I mean, besides solar surfing."  
"What's so wrong with that?" Quasi asked curiously.

Laura shrugged. "Solar surfing's okay if you do it in the right time and place."  
"But _he_ does it in the restricted mines!" giggled Paula. "More wine, Phoebus?"  
Phoebus shook his head. "I'm trying to cut down. I'll have some water."  
"With ice?" Paula giggled again.

"Oh, my God." Esmeralda facepalmed.

Phoebus laughed. "Yes, please, with ice."  
Paula vanished, and Meg leaned forward. "So...do you guys think he stole the Crystal?"  
Laura stopped washing glasses and bit her lip. Claudia pondered what Meg had said. "That's a tough question," she said at last.

"I suppose 'is the grass green?' is a tough question for you too," Esmeralda retorted.

"Okay, will you _shut up_?" Meg turned around, ready to slap her.

"I don't think he did," said Laura, placing a hand on her chest. "In all honest opinion. I think me, Paula and Claudia have a good idea of who did, though."  
"_Who_?" Meg leaned forward, not believing her ears. Phoebus's suggestion to pay the Bimbettes a visit was going better than she expected.

"A few days ago, a guy came over and got drunk." Laura looked at each of them in turn, pausing. Meg drummed her fingers on the desk. Holli swiped her lips with gloss.

"Are you gonna finish this story today?" Esme asked sweetly. "Or will I be forty by the time you're done?"  
"_Forty_?" Laura appeared to be shocked. "You're going _backwards _in age?"

Esme gasped. "How old did you think I was?!"  
Laura smirked. "Older than forty, I'll tell you that. I mean, girl, have you seen those breasts of yours?"  
"Okay, _enough_!" Meg slammed her hands on the desk. Esme looked like she was going to punch Laura the Bimbette right in her overly-gorgeous face. "Phoebus, would you please remove Esme?"  
"She can go," Laura said testily. "But Phoebus, come back, darling."

Esme opened her mouth, but Phoebus covered it with his hand and began to drag her outside.

"The story," Meg said, before anyone else could start up a conversation.

"Right," Claudia continued. "His name is Flynn Rider. I don't know if any of you know him...?"  
"Yeah, I do," Meg said, nodding her head.

"Same," Holli smiled. "He's gorgeous."  
"I know him," Phoebus said. Quasi was the only one who didn't.

"So," Claudia said. "He came in here a week back after the Interrogations, terrified out of his mind. We were trying to make him feel better."  
"I massaged his shoulders," Paula cut in.

"I brought him beer," Laura said with a smile.

Claudia nodded. "We just sat down with him and listened to his problems. And he had quite a few, let me tell you that. And he drank _a lot _of beer. He drank and drank practically all night and got super drunk."  
"And then," Paula cut in. "We wanted to know about the Interrogations, and how they went. So we asked Flynn. And he said—"

"He knew who did it!" said Laura excitedly. "He said he had gone with that person to help them pawn the jewel—but the person didn't sell it, they lost it near Cold Forest."  
"He told you all that?" Meg was amazed. "So who _is_ this mystery person who misplaces Crystals?"

"Oh." Laura looked sad. "He didn't tell us that. But it's not Jim Hawkins. Flynn said they had _red_ hair. And was really rich. Jim Hawkins is a no-no for both."  
Red hair? Meg glanced around. None of her friends were rich and had red hair. Ariel Triton? She was rich and had red hair. "Was it a girl or a boy? Who he went with?"  
Claudia looked up. "Hmmm?"  
"A girl or a boy?"  
"Are you thinking of Ariel Triton?" Laura chimed.

Meg nodded.

"Well, rule her out. Flynn described a boy."

Meg nodded again. "So Jim defenitely didn't do it? You're _positive_."  
The Bimbettes all nodded in unison. "Positive."  
Meg grinned. "I know exactly what I'm gonna do."

* * *

"Officer Rhimes!" Meg pounded on the glass window leading to Rhimes's office.

Rhimes opened the door, surprised, to see a beautiful girl with a high curly ponytail standing there, wearing a purple minidress.

"Can I help you?" he asked, then grinned. "Disney High student, right? I remember interrogating you a few days back."  
"Meg Chavons," Meg said, glaring at him. "You arrested a Disney High sophomore a few days ago, took him out of his home. You arrested him on a whim. He didn't do it."  
Officer Rhimes looked taken aback, and let his gaze travel down to Meg's breasts and the cleavage jutting out from her dress. "Excuse me," he said. "Who are you to question the actions of an authority?"  
"Who are _you_ to arrest an innocent person and then condemn them to death?" Meg shot back.

Officer Rhimes moved forward. "The King has ordered me to put Jim Hawkins to death."  
"Because the Crystal was found in his room? That has no freaking value!" Meg practically yelled. "I was framed a few years back by someone who claimed I killed my ex-boyfriend's girlfriend. I didn't, though. Framing is a horrible thing. Feeling guilty for a crime you didn't commit. He didn't do it."  
Rhimes raised his eyebrows. "The decision is final, Miss Chavons."  
Meg leaned forward. "What about the 10 day period the Agents reserve for finding solid evidence? It's been 2 frickin' days! Have you found _any_ evidence? How are you gonna execute him tomorrow?"  
"The King's orders don't _ask _for evidence. And I am to follow his orders."  
"SCREW THE KING!" Meg screamed. "You don't deserve to be with the law. You're gonna burn in hell for committing murder!"  
Rhimes grabbed Meg's arm. "I'm gonna ask you to leave my office now, Miss Chavons."  
Meg folded her arms across her chest. "Well, you just sit your ass down and get a cigarette because you're in for a long wait. I'm not leaving till that kid gets justice."

Rhimes began to walk, dragging Meg with him. "Then you'll wait as well—in a prison cell. You're okay with that, aren't you, Miss Chavons?" Rhimes raised his eyebrows—it was her one last chance to walk away unscathed. Meg looked at the bars and shivered. She remembered her time in jail—a horrible time of peeing in buckets, watery meals, lesbian prisoners feeling her up at night, a cold hard floor, and the threat of public execution looming in her future, blocking it like a brick wall. She stared bravely at Rhimes. "When will you let me out?"  
"When you give up this silly 'freedom' game." He held the cell door open. "One last chance, Meg. Give up this little _game_ and walk away now."

Meg sucked in air and stepped into the cell. "It's not a game, Officer. And I won't give it up."

As he walked away, locking her in, Meg said to his retreating back:

"And I'll see _you_ get the justice you deserve."

* * *

_My mind is an empty blank slate._

_-Dani_

"Flynn?" Dani had left the police station, driven Wendy home, and then went to Flynn's house. As usual, his apartment was messy and he was in the shower. Dani heard him singing in there.

She walked to his bed and sat down, taking off her jacket to reveal her curve-hugging shirt and booty shorts. It had started raining outside.

_How could Hawkins DO something like this?_ She thought. _He didn't seem like the steal-a-priceless-gem-kind-of-guy_.

She buried her face in her hands, thinking of what her best friend Wendy might be feeling right now.

"Dani?"  
Dani looked up and spotted Flynn standing there with just a towel wrapped around his lower half.

"Shit!" he hissed. "Oh, God, Dani! I didn't even hear you come in!"  
"Yeah," Dani muttered. "You were too busy singing in the shower."  
Flynn rushed back into the bathroom to change. Dani waited.

He emerged again, yanking a gray t-shirt over his wet brown hair. He walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her on the mouth. He saw the sadness in her eyes, though. "Dani, what's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"Jim Hawkins," she said dazedly. "Did you read the papers?"  
Flynn chuckled. "No. What's up? What's with Hawkins?"

Dani sat on the bed, trying to control the level of shock she was experiencing right now. "He's the Crystal Thief, Flynn. It's _him_. He stole the Crystal."  
Flynn furrowed his brow. "_What_? Where did you hear _that_?"  
Dani buried her face into her hands. "All I can think of is how loud Wendy screamed over the phone. She's really devastated."  
"Devastated?"  
Dani looked up at Flynn's face. "Yeah. Jim got arrested today by Rhimes and a few other cops. They took him to jail—they're gonna execute him tomorrow." Tears came out of Dani's eyes. "Wendy is gonna be _crushed_," she sobbed. "She _really_ loves him, Flynn."  
Flynn wouldn't make eye contact with her.

Dani sniffled. "Flynn, what's the matter? What's wrong?"  
Flynn stood up. "Nothing. I—" He walked to the window, looking out at the city.

"Flynn." Dani stood too. Now she looked suspicious. "Flynn, you're hiding something from me."  
"No, no, I'm—" Flynn glanced back at her with a weird look in his eye. "They think _Hawkins_ did it? I mean—why? How did that happen?"  
Dani sprawled on Flynn's bed. "The Crystal was found in his room."  
"Pan," she heard Flynn hiss under his breath.

"Pan?" Dani sat up. "I don't know what you're—"

"Nothing," Flynn said through gritted teeth. "You staying over or not?"  
Dani nodded. "Can I please?"  
Flynn nodded too, and moved to lie down.

But Dani stopped him. "Flynn," she said, looking at him with her large gray eyes. "If you're hiding something from me, tell me."

Flynn looked pained.

"_Please_."  
Flynn let out a cry of frustration and pushed away from Dani. "I CAN'T! DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND?"  
Dani stared at him, totally taken aback. "Flynn—"

"I can't tell you who it is. If I do, I'd be endangering other people. _And_ putting _my_ neck on the line. And if I told you, well, Dani, you wouldn't like me anymore."  
Dani gasped. "No, Flynn, of course I—" Realization dawned on her. "_You're_ the Crystal Thief?"  
"What?" Flynn glared at her. "No, not me. But a friend of mine."  
Dani relaxed a little. "But you're keeping secrets from your _girlfriend_, Flynn."  
"So WHAT?" Flynn exploded. "I've kept _tons_ of secrets from my other girlfriends. How are _you_ any different?"  
There was a long silence.

Flynn winced, looking at Dani's hurt expression. "Dani, I'm sorry."  
Dani stood up, her mouth one straight line. "No, Flynn. Don't be. I've heard enough." She grabbed her jacket from the chair.

"No, no, don't leave, Dani." Flynn stood up, blocked her way to the door. "Don't go, please. I need you to understand—"

"_Understand what_?" The freshman girl demanded, her eyes blazing.

Flynn looked away. "I am keeping this secret from you for your own good. You could get in trouble—"

Dani looked beseechingly at him. "I wouldn't tell."  
"You'd hate me."  
"I would never, Flynn!" Dani glared. "You asked me out, and I said yes. Do you think I'd hate you over one little thing?"  
Flynn rubbed his forehead. "It's not a little thing."

Dani narrowed her eyes. "So you're not gonna tell me."  
"No," said Flynn sadly, his eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Dani. If there was anything—"

"Flynn," said Dani, her eyes continuing to spark. "Talk to me when you get your attitude straight."

"_No_." Flynn blocked Dani's way, grabbing her face and tilting it up to look at her. "Look at me, Dani."  
Dani pulled her face away, and tears settled on her eyelashes. "Get out of my way."

Flynn held onto her arms. "Dani, I love you. I love you from the bottom of my heart but this one thing I can't tell you. But I will—later."  
"_When_?" Dani shrieked. "When the _execution _is over and Jim Hawkins has been put to death when he's not even guilty? When my best friend goes into depression and commits suicide and I'll be left crying for the rest of my damn life?" She grabbed Flynn's hands tightly. "Please, please, _please_, Flynn, just tell me. I won't tell anyone. I _promise_. I won't go to the cops. If you don't trust me, lock me up in your closet until the execution is over. But I just want you to tell me and—"

Flynn looked down at her, his eyes hard. "Tell you and what?"  
Dani bit her lip. "Set things right. Why does Jim, or _anyone_, have to die? He didn't even do it, and you're protecting the brainless asshole who did. Flynn, it makes you just as guilty as the one who actually did."

"My girlfriend used to say stuff like that," Flynn said softly, still blocking Dani's way. "She says there are two types of evil people in the world: some who do evil things, some who see evil things being done and don't tell anybody about it."  
"Yeah, exactly!" Dani looked up at Flynn's eyes. "If you've _ever_ cared about me, please tell me who stole the Crystal. I thought you were Jim's friend! You can't just let him die tomorrow."  
Flynn ran his hands through his hair. "I can't let you go though. It would be suicide on the person."  
Dani shook her head. "I won't go. I _will_ go to the execution, but I'll keep my mouth shut. But if nothing happens and they are about to kill Jim, _I will speak up_." Her eyes turned dark. "Mark my words. The Agents are being too cruel for their own good."  
Flynn sucked in air. "Right. Okay."  
Dani moved away from the door and sat on Flynn's bed.

"Okay," Flynn said, taking a deep, deep breath. "Ready?"  
"I'm ready."  
Flynn avoided eye contact with Dani and stared at a picture of him, Gaston, and Jim up on the wall.

"The Crystal Thief is...Peter Tremaine."

* * *

_Everytime I see her, a strange lust dances in me like a fiery spirit. I desire to hold her, to own her. But one thing I know: Esmeralda is MINE._

_-Frollo _

Frollo, the priest of St. Peter's church, stood on the stone balcony, staring at Bronson. Outside the graffitied walls, there stood the dancer Esmeralda.

She was so beautiful Frollo envied her perfectly chiseled face and lovely features. Her enormous breasts, her curvy in-shape figure, her curly black hair, her emerald green eyes, her smooth dark skin. He longed to hold her, to keep her forever. But she was always out of his reach.

But wait. She was leaving her friends and carrying out Claude Frollo's biggest dream yet: coming to the church.

He smiled to himself and started downstairs into the sanctuary. He opened the giant doors and spotted her over by a gate, staring out into the horizon.

"Esmeralda, right?" He glided over and smiled. His thin pale face, his lanky figure hidden by black bishop robes.

Esmeralda blinked. "Sorry, do I know you?"  
"I don't think so." Frollo held up his thin smile. "I am the priest of St. Peters. Ever come to this church?"  
Esmeralda looked away. "I don't attend church."  
"What is your job?" Frollo asked her. "Do you work Sundays?"

Esmeralda glanced at him. "I work everyday of the week." _I know, _Frollo thought. _As a prostitute. Dear Esmeralda, I know everything about you._

"I know what job you work," Frollo continued. "I spoke to a man at the bar. You...slept with him."  
Esme reeled back. "_What_?"

"You need to atone for your sins, confess them before the holy saints." Frollo nodded. "Because otherwise, this sleeping with men occupation will lead you right to hell."  
"Good." Esmeralda tucked a wisp of curly black hair behind her ear. "It's where I belong."  
Frollo took her elbow and began leading her towards the church. "Come inside, child," he said."I will show you how to confess your sins to Mother Mary."  
He pushed Esme to her knees before the altar. "The most Holy Altar," Frollo said with a nod. "Now all you have to do is pray. Pray that your sins are forgiven, and tell Mother Mary that you will never sleep with other men again. And join a committed relationship with one man. Promise Mother Mary that."  
Esme looked uncomfortable, but bowed her head and began to pray.

"Are you finished?" asked Frollo in a few moments. So eager was he to start touching the beautiful girl. Esme looked up and nodded. "I guess so."  
"Refreshment?" Frollo offered. "I have wine, grapes, and cheese upstairs in my office. I'd be happy to share a meal with a beautiful young woman. And one who confessed her sins too."  
"No, thank you." Esme stood and headed for the door. "My boyfriend is waiting for me at Bronson. I have to go back now. Thank you, though, for helping me with the atonement."  
Frollo pretended to be disappointed. "But, dear girl, it is not wise to refuse a priest. Come, drink and eat with me. It's not a suggestion."  
Esme was clearly itching to leave, but she followed Frollo anyway, up a spiral stone staircase.

He opened a door, and she stepped inside. It was a small circular stone room, with a table, a bed, and a cross hung on the wall.

"This is nice," Esme said to Frollo with a tiny smile. "Very...religious."  
"Yes," Frollo offered her a chair. "Grapes? Cheese? What can I get you, Esmeralda?"  
"I'll have some wine, if you have any." Esmeralda relaxed in the chair. Just a friendly priest, right?

"Absolutely." Frollo removed a bottle of red wine. "Pour yourself a glass, please." As Esme complied, he rose off the chair and lit some candles, placing them on the white tablecloth.

Esme looked uncomfortable yet again. "Uh, Mister, what are you doing?"  
"It's _Reverend_ Frollo," Frollo said. "Priest. Preacher. Lord's servant. But not mister."

"_Reverend Frollo_," enunciated Esme. "I _really_ have to go. My friends will be waiting for me."

Frollo stood. "Well. It pains me, but Esmeralda, you aren't leaving."

Shock echoed across Esmeralda's face, then anger. "Excuse me? Reverend Frollo, I don't under—"

Frollo grabbed her wrist and spun her around, twisting her arm behind her back. Esmeralda cried out in pain.

Frollo walked Esmeralda to the bed and shoved her onto it. Esmeralda was screaming at the top of her lungs by now. Frollo quickly covered her mouth with his hand and began to unbutton her shirt, revealing her black bra. He grabbed her skirt and slowly slid it down. He slid his cold hands up and down her legs, ignoring her muffled screams. He ran his hands along the top of her chest. He kissed up and down her neck and onto her face, on her forehead and pressed his lips into her hair.

One thing he had to give her credit for: she was a fighter. She wasn't breakable—she was made of stone. She was giving it all she had. Suddenly, she got one of her knees free from underneath Frollo's stomach and kneed him right under the chin.

Frollo fell back. Esmeralda got free, screamed as loud as she could and kicked him straight in the face. Blood flowed out of his nose. His dark eyes got angry. "You're going to hell!" he yelled at her.

Esmeralda ran to the window, wrenching it open and jumped, her shirt still unbuttoned, her breasts bouncing, her skirt torn and hanging around her ankles. She yanked it up, but not before Frollo grabbed her hair and caused her to fall over. Esmeralda grabbed a vase of flowers sitting on the windowsill and smashed it over Frollo's head.

Frollo fell back with a groan of pain. Esmeralda jumped out onto the roof of St. Peters and rolled downwards off the roof. Esmeralda let out a scream to try and stop her fall, but no such luck. She held out her arms to stop her fall. She rolled down the slick roof forward, and found herself clinging to the balcony. Praying Frollo wouldn't find her, Esmeralda clung to the balcony.

Now what?

She could think of no other way out as she looked downwards. Almost 10 feet off the ground—she's surely get injuries if she jumped.

She sucked in air determinedly. That was one chance she was willing to take to escape the pervert priest.

She closed her eyes—and she let go of the balcony.

* * *

**Hey guys! How was this chapter? Cliffhanger! Will Esmeralda survive? What will she do out of desperation? Why is Frollo such a damn CREEP? Yuck, I just want to knee him in face. Go Esmeralda! How was the Flynn and Dani thing? Like it, love it, hate it? And the Bimbettes just bother me LIKE A LOT. **

**Stay tuned for more of the Crystal Thief! Sorry I keep delaying the execution—patience dear people. It will come. There are a lot of other POVs I have to develop. **


	24. The Accident and the True Identity

**Hi everybody! **

**I was SO busy the last few days. I had so much homework and everything. Because teachers live to personally make students' lives miserable. They think its fun to have this game where who can assign the most homework so students can come back the next day with back problems and incomplete homework. And then you get slapped with a big fat F. But nevermind all that crap. I'll still be updating till the very end of this story. **

**Reply to Reviews! **

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**CalzonaMerDer: YOU'RE BACK! Armed with your GA fandom! Yay, we have like the same fandom. April and Jackson after the wedding! I SAW THAT! Yeah, Sandra Oh is my favorite character on the whole show. Cristina Yang forever! **

**Gahahaga: Thank you so much! And here's the update!  
**

**EsmeraldaFrollo: Awww, thanks. Yes, Dani Spark is the . Sorry, one of my friends, Karly, keeps saying that and it's stuck in my head. Does anybody else have those friends that keep repeating this? Or am I the only one?**

* * *

_Morning is supposed to come with hope. This morning came with fear. _

_-Flynn_

He woke up and saw Dani lying next to him. Her eyes were open, puffy, and red.

"Did you sleep?!" Flynn demanded incredulously. "God, Dani, you look hungover!"  
"I swallowed sleeping pills, but I couldn't sleep." Dani stared straight at the ceiling. "I can't believe that they're gonna kill Jim today."  
Flynn cracked his neck. "Yeah, well. Some people are unlucky?"  
Dani glared daggers at him. " '_Some people are unlucky_?' Are you out of your mind? He's your _friend_, Flynn! Show a little compassion."  
Flynn closed his eyes and laid back down.

"You're keeping the rest of the story from me. But I want to hear it."  
Flynn turned. "Huh?"  
"The rest of the story. Besides Peter stealing the Crystal. What's _your_ part in this scheme?"  
Flynn blushed. "I don't have a part."  
"The guilt's written all over your smug little face." Dani frowned.

Flynn shrugged. "I didn't do anything."  
"No, you're a saint!" Dani slid out of bed. "Flynn Rider, you tell me this instant!"  
Flynn ran his hands through his hair again. "I'd rather just lie here and kiss you."  
Dani softened, then shoved him playfully. "No. I won't fall for that. You tell me the story, and then you can keep me for as long as you like."  
"Hmmm." Flynn stroked his chin. "As long as I like?"  
"Yes."  
Flynn grabbed her around the waist. "You're my prisoner then."  
Dani wrapped her arms around his neck. "First things first. _The story_, Flynn."

Flynn sighed and Dani flopped on the floor. "Well," he began. "Peter told me he stole the Crystal, and wanted to sell it. He didn't tell me why, but he wanted to sell it. So I told him where he could illegally pawn the Crystal, with one of my friends. Pigeon."  
"Pigeon?" Dani wrinkled her nose.

"He's homeless," Flynn explained. "And he bartends sometimes down at the Snuggly Duckling. He's a regular at Bronson, too."  
"I've never been to those places."  
"That's good," Flynn assured her. "You're not supposed to be. Anyways," he added hastily, seeing Dani's concerned face. "so Peter had me take him down, and Pigeon told Peter to come back that night with the Crystal—the night of the Triton Girls' party."

Dani's eyes widened.

Flynn lowered his gaze. "And I told him in the middle of the party that we should probably go sell the Crystal now, but he said he lost it. And he seemed all angry."  
"Why?"  
"I dunno. But he left in a big hurry."  
Dani shook her head. "He probably framed Jim. But I have no clue why he would do that. Jim usually keeps to himself."  
"He gets into millions of fights."  
"Yes, but has he ever gotten into one with Peter?"  
Flynn was thinking. "I don't think so. Peter tends to stay away from Gaston's entire group. And Jim belongs to that group...so, no. I don't think Peter and Jim ever scuffled."  
Dani leaned back against the pillow. "Do you think he'll stop the execution to save Jim?"  
Flynn snorted. "Peter is selfish and arrogant and cocky. I don't think so."  
"Are you the only one that knows?"

Flynn glanced at her. "Yeah. Well, besides you."  
"So you played a part in this."  
Flynn looked uncomfortable. "Eh. Not really a _part_. _I'm_ not the Crystal Thief. Peter is."

"So Peter must've framed Jim."  
That was a new path to take. Flynn furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would Peter have a bone to pick with Jim?"  
"Well." Dani scratched her head. "Does...Peter like anyone that you know about?"  
Flynn shook his head. "No."  
"Let me ask Wendy." Dani reached for the phone. "I think they're friends..."  
Flynn pulled her hand away. "No!"  
Dani yanked away. "Why _not_?"  
"I don't want you to tell—"

Dani was cross. "I'm not _telling_, Flynn. I'm just gonna ask Wendy if Peter likes anyone."  
"Don't you think that'll be a bit suspicious?" Flynn hissed. "How's that conversation gonna go?" He switched to a falsetto voice. " 'Oh, hey, Wendy, sorry about your boyfriend. By the way, on a sidenote, does Peter Tremaine like anybody?' And then she'll say, 'Why, Dani?' And you'll say, 'Just curious!' How the HELL would that make ANY SENSE?"

Dani looked taken aback. "I'll be subtle, I promise."  
Flynn released the phone, and Dani dialed Wendy's number.

Wendy picked up. "Dani?" Her voice was all stuffed up from crying.

"Hey, honey." Dani bit her lip. "How're you doing?"  
"I don't know."  
Flynn raised an eyebrow. Dani swallowed. "Just a quick question. Does Peter Tremaine like anybody, as far as you know?"  
"That. Was. Not. Subtle." Flynn glowered at Dani.

"Why?" Wendy asked curiously.

"No reason," Dani shrugged. "Wondering. Maybe if he liked me?"

Flynn gasped. Dani rolled her eyes. "Relax, Flynn, I'm making this up as I go."  
"No, Dani," Wendy sniffled on the other end. "He used to like me, I think. He left me this secret love note in my locker. And I confronted him about it, but then Jim asked me out. So..." Dani heard a sob.

"I'm sorry, Wendy." Dani sniffed. "I really am."  
Wendy had already hung up the phone.

"He likes Wendy," Dani reported.

Flynn gasped, pointing. "That's IT! Don't you SEE? Peter framed Jim to get rid of him. So he'd be out of the picture and Wendy would be his."  
Dani's mouth fell open. "So Peter is the Crystal Thief...AND he framed Jim. He's a frickin' _murderer_!"

Flynn shook his head. "Well, you promised. You can't tell _anybody_."  
Dani buried her face in her hands. "I don't see why you're protecting that JERK! It's _horrible_, trying to get rid of Jim when clearly, Wendy loves him too much to describe."

Flynn stood. "I don't know. I'm torn between the authorities and protecting my friend and pleasing my girlfriend."  
"Life is full of choices..." Dani began.

"Don't preach, please." Flynn leaned out the window. Suddenly he gasped. "What's going on near St. Peter's cathedral?"  
Dani rushed to the window. "There are so many ambulances and cop cars! What do you think—"

"I don't know. Come on!"  
Flynn threw on his coat, tossed Dani's jacket at her, and they left Flynn's apartment. They charged onto the street, but the whole place was marked off with Caution! yellow tape.

Flynn charges forward. "Excuse me!" he yelled at a cop.

"Listen, kid, this is a crime scene—" the cop began.

Flynn stared at the girl on the ground, bleeding from the head. "I KNOW HER! That's Esmeralda—she's from Bronson."  
The cop looked at him, confused. "You a relative?"  
Flynn hesitated, then nodded. "I'm her brother. I'm...er...Emmett. What happened to her?"

"Fell. From up there. Attempted suicide."  
"No," Flynn said, shaking his head. "She wouldn't."  
"Do you mind if we asked you a question?"  
"Ask away."  
"Is there any abuse going on at home? Is she in an abusive relationship? Was she sad or depressed in any way?"  
Flynn blinked. "No. No abuse. She has a nice boyfriend—he's my friend." It was the truth.

Dani grabbed Flynn's arm. _Why was he lying_?  
Flynn swallowed. "Ask someone. _Anyone_. Anyone that was here. Ask that guy!" Flynn pointed at the priest in black robes, gliding out from the church doors.

"Reverend Frollo!" the cop took off, and Flynn stared at Esmeralda. She let out moans, her head bleeding severely. Her fingers were bent. Obviously broken.

Dani turned away, disgusted. "Do you think she wanted to kill herself, Flynn?" she asked.

Flynn shook his head no. "Esmeralda never had a _good_ life, but she was content with it," he replied. "Unless...something happened to change her mind today. With Phoebus?"  
Dani looked away, fearfully. "Will she make it?"  
Flynn shrugged. "I don't know. I hope she will. But—she has to go to the hospital."  
"Hospital's closed!" A surgeon yelled from the ambulance. "Due to the execution!"  
"Damn," swore the nearest police officer. "What will we do with this girl?"  
The surgeon shrugged. "Is she in a life-or-death situation?"  
"YES!" Flynn hollered. "Look, you _have_ to do something! She needs _help_! She's—she's bleeding from the head!"  
The surgeon glared, then gestured. "I can open one wing at the hospital, I suppose. Bend a few rules, but only because she's near death."  
"She's not gonna die," Flynn snarled. "She's gonna be alright."  
"Flynn," Dani clung to his arm. "Is she—"

"She's unconscious!" yelled an officer. "Would you get that damn ambulance ready, McRooney?"  
The surgeon, McRooney, quickly prepared the ambulance, and once Esmeralda's body was loaded in, Flynn strode over to Reverend Frollo. "Sorry to disturb you, Reverend," he grimaced. "I just want to know if you saw what happened to that girl who fell."  
Frollo nodded. "I do know. What a shame. She came to me for counciling. She asked me to help her atone for all her sins, and for me to read the Bible aloud for her to pray to God. But I took her upstairs to give her something to drink when she grew faint. Upstairs, I left the room for one second to go fetch my Bible and read a Psalm to her, and once I left the room, and I returned, the girl was gone. I looked everywhere, and out the window to my balcony, and I saw her there, dangling. I let out a cry. I said to her, 'You commit suicide, and your soul will burn in hell.' She didn't care, and let go before I could grab her hand and pull her to safety."  
Flynn looked down. "So it was a suicide attempt, like the officers said."  
"Indeed, a suicide attempt." Frollo nodded. "My sincere regrets to the family of the girl." He looked up at Flynn. "Are you family?"  
"I'm her...brother," Flynn said, scratching his head. "She had a rough life, I guess. Prostitution and all that."  
"She _did_ mention it." Frollo nodded. "Well. Good day. I'll pray for her soul."  
Flynn dipped his head and resumed walking back to Dani.

But Dani had the feeling Reverend Frollo was lying.

She was thinking maybe he had more to do with Esmeralda's injury then he had just testified.

* * *

_I should never have lied—see where it got me?  
-Cindy_

When Cindy had arrived home late last night after her pretending to be Anastasia Tremaine, she had opened the door and had seen Peter making out with a blonde girl about his age in the dark. A big clay bowl of popcorn was overturned on the floor, and the end credits of the Sound of Music was playing on TV...

"_What the hell?!" Cindy demanded, switching on the light in the den._

_Peter and Blondie broke apart, and Cindy gasped, seeing who the girl was. "Alice?"_

_Alice scrambled up. "Cindy! How are you?"  
"Alice, what are you doing?" Cindy glared at Peter. "Kissfest?"  
"Like you weren't doing the same thing with Mr. McDreamy!" Peter shot back. "On your daaaaate."  
"Peter told me you were out on a date, and I wanted to visit you," Alice said, with a tiny smile. "We made popcorn and were watching pointless movies," Peter chimed in. _

"_How did it escalate from popcorn and pointless movies?" demanded Cindy, glaring at Peter. _

_Peter shrugged. "We've kissed before."  
"Excuse me, are you high?" cried Cindy. "You've kissed before?"  
"We had a thing," Alice answered. "But we were young though. It was back in fifth and eighth grade. In the backyard. Peter used to laugh when I went on your old swing, and he used to hold me and kiss me under that giant tree."  
Cindy rolled her eyes. "And you never thought to tell your favorite and awesomest cousin, Alice?"  
Alice looked sheepish. "Sorry."  
"So you two have a thing now?"  
Peter looked at Alice questioningly, and Alice pecked him on the mouth. Peter kissed back with full force, feeling her up and pressing his mouth over hers. He didn't want people to know he actually felt grown up feelings such as love, but here, with Alice, he didn't actually care. She was just as childish as him—to him—and he liked her a lot. He wasn't afraid to kiss her and be childish and immature with her. _

"_God." Cindy collapsed on to the sofa. "Get a room."  
They both grinned. _

_Cindy gestured at the popcorn mess. "Clean this up. I don't want to see this here, do you understand? Alice, tomorrow morning, you're leaving. Understand?"  
"Yeah, Cindy."_

_Then they had all went to bed, and forgotten about last night's events, and the next morning, Peter and Alice had kissed intensely, and then Alice had gone home—before the Wicked Witch of the West and the two Stepmonkeys got home. But they did...and disaster struck._

Cindy was sweeping up the floor when the doorbell rang.

Drisella, who was reading on the couch got up and checked the window, which was unnatural of her to help Cindy out. She gasped. "It's the dreamiest guy I ever saw in my life! ANASTASIA! MOTHER! There's a beautiful boy outside on the steps."  
_Char_.

Cindy's heart started beating. "Here, Drisella," she said evenly, standing up. "Let me get the door, please."  
Drisella scowled. "He wouldn't want to see your ugly-ass face. Or your ugly tattered gown or your ugly messed up hands. He wants to see me and Anastasia."  
Cindy was too afraid to make a comeback. Within seconds, Lady Tremaine had glided down the stairs. "You girls go make yourselves presentable," she told them. "I'll see who this boy is."  
She opened the door, and Cindy quickly retreated into the kitchen at the wave of Lady Tremaine's hand.

That didn't stop her from listening.

"Hello ma'am, very sorry to bother you," Char's voice said.

"No trouble at all," replied Lady Tremaine. Her voice was all milk and honey and smoothness, unlike the harsh prickly cactus tone she used with Cindy.

"I was looking for an...Anastasia Tremaine. Ana. If that's no trouble."  
She heard Lady Tremaine gasp in delight. "Anastasia Tremaine? Oh, that's my daughter."  
"She is very beautiful, and smart, and kind," Cindy heard Char say. "I'd like to get to know her more. Please, could you ask her to come and see me?"  
"Absolutely!" Lady Tremaine beamed. "I'll call her. Anastasia? Darling, there is a lovely young man here to see you."  
_Not her_, Cindy wanted to say. _Me_. _He wants to see me._

Anastasia came running down the stairs. She rushed to the door, beaming like a chimpanzee. Cindy saw Char take a step back. "Um," he said.

"Um what?" Lady Tremaine demanded.

"Sorry," said Char embarrassed. "This is not the girl I was looking for."  
"Does the girl you were looking for have short black hair?" Anastasia asked. "That's my sister."  
"The girl I'm looking for is named Ana Tremaine," said Char evenly. "She has golden hair and eyes that shine like stars. Sorry if that got too corny, ma'am. She is beautiful and I want to have another date with her tonight after the execution."  
Lady Tremaine narrowed her eyes. "Golden hair, you say?" she asked in a soft voice. "A beautiful girl."  
"In a lovely dress," Char added. "We met last night."  
"My daughters and I," said Lady Tremaine with a snide smile. "were out of town last night. I'm wondering who you could have seen."

Cindy saw Lady Tremaine hold up a finger to Char and stride back into the kitchen to Cindy. She grabbed a handful of black soot and pasted it onto Cindy's face and cheeks and dress.  
"Stepmother, let go!" Cindy protested.

But to no avail. Cindy was dragged out of the kitchen. Lady Tremaine flung Cindy forward against Char, who caught her. He looked down at the girl, and recognition lit up his eyes, then shock. "_Ana_?"  
By now Cindy had begun crying, tears making crystalline tracks down her face. She pushed away and stumbled back against Lady Tremaine, who pressed her thin wine-colored lips together.

"This is _not_ Anastasia Tremaine," she hissed.

"Yes, it is!" Char yelled back. "Why is she dressed like a servant? Why are you treating her this way?"

"This is a _servant girl_!" shrieked Lady Tremaine. "Her name is _Cinderella_ and she is in no way related to me and my daughters! If it is one of my daughters you want, take them."  
Char was glaring. He turned to Cindy. "Why did you lie to me?"

Cindy was sobbing. She looked away and didn't reply. "I'm sorry," was all she could say before breaking down again.

Char turned back to Lady Tremaine. "Your daughters—I'm sure they're great. But—I was expecting another girl, who turned out to be your freaking servant. So I'm just gonna go now."

"Ch-char!" Cindy looked up. "Ch-char, don't l-leave me h-here. I w-won't be able t-to—"

"Shut the hell up!" screamed Drisella. "Cinderella, haven't you done enough?"  
"P-p-please, Char!" Cindy cried. "Char, t-take me with you!"

Char kept walking, slowly, tediously, down towards his car.

"_Please don't do this_," Cindy whispered.

Suddenly, Char turned around and ran back to Cindy. Before anyone could do anything, Char wrapped his arm around Cindy and led her to his car.

Without a word, he slipped out of his jacket and draped it around his shoulders. He gave her a box of Kleenex. She blew her nose and buried her face between her knees in a sad attempt to try and brush off the soot.

Char stopped the car in a little while in front of a house. It was nice, and Cindy blew her nose again, too afraid to look at the friendly boy she had enjoyed her time with last night at Yellow Stars.

"Ana," he said evenly. "or should I call you something else?"  
Cindy swallowed, trying not to bawl. "My name is Cindy."  
"I don't know," Char began. "why you wouldn't tell me that right at the Triton Girls' party."  
"I was ashamed," Cindy whispered. "of who I was."  
"Who exactly is that?"  
"A servant." Cindy wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry I put this all on you."

Char laughed. "No problem. Just a little bit of weirdness is always good."  
"I'll have to go back eventually," Cindy reminded him.

"Naw, Cindy!" Char grabbed her hand. "You don't understand. I want _you_. All of you. I wouldn't care if you were a demon, I love you. I fell in love with you last night with your witty puns and your absolute sweetness, and I want you to stay with me." He blushed and backed up. "I mean—do you want to?"  
Cindy considered.

All her life she had spent in servitude, scrounging after her stepfamily. Her father and mother had both died, no one besides Peter had ever been her friend. And here was Char, offering to love her and care for her. It was like a dream come true.

"Is there a downside?" Cindy asked cautiously.

Char looked very serious. "I will love you to death. If you can't stand that, say no."  
Cindy took a deep breath.

"I love you and I will stay with you as long as I am alive. I just ask you to please never leave me alone and do to me what my stepfamily did."  
Char stared at her and finally nodded. "I will never leave you. You're all I need."

**I'm sorry, guys. That was just so corny I almost barfed.**

**But I think Char is sweet. But still. Yuck. Anyways. I'm glad Cindy is finally out of that damn hellhole into a world of happiness and all that. Next chapter is the Execution. Just one big chapter, with a bunch of POVs to show different perspectives and all that. **

**SO PREPARE FOR THE CLIMAX IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!**

**And then we'll settle the little problems. Like Arista's pregnancy, and Ariel/Adrian fluff, and Cindy/Char. And Peter/Alice, of course. **

**I better start working. **


	25. The Execution Part 1

**I am pretty psyched for this chapter. I actually re-wrote it several times, but I'm still not quite SATISFIED with it. Idk. Please be gentle if it's not up to your expectation, since this is going to be the best chapter, probably. There is two parts to the Execution, so stay tuned for Part II of this chapter, which I will post later. Next Saturday—the LATEST. I will try to get it in before, because there is a cliffhanger in this chapter that you'll probably hate me for. **

**Please continue reviewing. Yay! 167 reviews? I never even dreamed. Can we get to 200? 200th reviewer gets...idk. Maybe put them in the story? **

**Keep reading and reviewing! Thanks to all you followed, favorited, reviewed, or just took the time to read the story. **

**Reply to Comments: **

**Avril Lambert: Ik. Peter is beginning to annoy me. But hopefully by the end of the Execution Part 2 you will like Peter a lot more because he shows the goodness in him. And exactly. Peter is bad news, when it comes to girls. **

**Flying By Wire: Your reviews—okay, I've said this TOO many times before—are just so motivational. They tell me to get up and keep updating this story! You're awesome!**

**TightCorset: Lol, I did! Worked my ass off! And here's the chapter! **

**AngelDemon: I used your idea in this chapter. With Sinbad, and Sarah. (I had to look up Sinbad's girlfriend's name. It was Marina!) Aww, and thank you. For the compliments about my stories. You're awesome. **

**Disclaimer: I think we all know I don't own Disney. I only own Dani Spaaaaark! :D And also, the song in this is "The Reason" by Hoobastank. I just thought it kinda showed Jim's emotions well in the execution. **

**Enjoy this, guys! Keep pestering me for the next part and I WILL UPLOAD! **

**-inserts an evil smirk—**

**-Crystal**

* * *

_All we can do is keep breathing. _

_-Sarah _

For Sarah Hawkins, hospitality and cooking kept her alive.

When Sinbad had left all those years ago, she sat there and cried, then cooked. She made food and served her guests and worked her ass off. She had never cursed at him, not once. She had given him love and care and tried to forget the past. She had never brought it up, not once. On Sinbad's birthday, she hadn't called him.

Instead, she tried to pretend he had been wiped off the face of the planet.

She had been shocked when the cops arrived and announced that her son was the Crystal Thief. Of course she had heard bits and pieces of gossip from the marketplace about the Thief. But she had never in a million years thought it would be her son. Jim wasn't a bad kid, he just had the tendancy to get into a little trouble. But never anything _serious_. Only for solar surfing and other assorted small crimes.

But to be _put to death_? And they had discarded the protocol of leaving ten days to search for evidence. Why? Was there a reason behind this?  
Sarah knew she didn't have time for questions.

She continued to mix the dough for bread. She had no idea what she was doing but she'd keep doing it till the sun turned to blood and the world ended.

If she stopped for one second, she feared she'd melt and her bones would turn to ashes. Sarah mixed vigorously.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the ground. Well, who the hell was that? Sarah only had one customer today. A traveler. Everyone else had stayed at home to wait for the execution, which had been extended to sunset.

She sucked in air, and strode to the door, opening it.

There stood Sinbad.

She stared at him. He looked up at her. "Sarah," he greeted. "I—"

Sarah didn't give him a chance to speak. She slammed the door in his face. She was going to block the inn from him. She was going to build a barrier. Never was he ever going to get close to her again. After all, it was his fault for making Jim this way. If Sinbad hadn't left, Jim would be a good boy. At least that's what she hoped.

"Sarah, _please_. Open the door. Please. Just let me talk."

"NO!" Sarah screamed. For the first time, since the officers had said Jim was going to be executed, Sarah began to cry. She pushed herself against the door.  
"Sarah, I _understand_ what you're going through. I _know_—"

"You don't understand _anything_!" Sarah hollered. "You LEFT US! You left him—do you know how much you hurt us?" Sarah massaged her temples. "You know what, Sinbad? Forget _me_. It doesn't matter about me. What about JIM? You don't know how much he missed you. Do you know how horrible it is for a son to lose his father?"  
"I'm right here!" Sinbad tried to wrench the door open desperately. "I'm here now, Sarah."  
"Where were you _three years ago_?" Sarah snarled, shoving the door back. "As far as I'm concerned, you are _dead_ to me. DEAD!"

Sinbad won out and pushed the door open. Sarah stumbled back. Sinbad moved forward. "Sarah. I don't want you to be sad alone. Just let me help you."  
Sarah ran to the kitchen, throwing the door open and slamming it. She sank into her chair, her blood pressure soaring sky high and her forehead throbbing. She was crying so hard she couldn't breathe. "He was my _son_," she sobbed. "I need him, I can't live without him—I can't do this alone!"

Sinbad looked through the little window, then he looked down. "Sarah. I—" He stopped.

Sarah continued to cry. She couldn't form words with her lips.

"If it isn't trouble," Sinbad leaned through the window. "I have a request."  
"What _more could you want from me_?" Sarah wailed.

"Water," said Sinbad.

Sarah poured a glass of water to get rid of him, and opened the door to shove it at him.  
"Not for me," Sinbad said, glancing out the window. "For her." He pointed at an exotic girl with tan skin, short wavy black hair and turquoise eyes.

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Who are you?"  
The woman smiled and accepted the glass of water. "I'm Marina Hawkins."  
Sarah turned to Sinbad slowly. "Marina _Hawkins_."

"I'm Sinbad's wife," Marina said, narrowing her eyes. "You must be his girlfriend. And the mother of his child. The juvenile delinquent, right? I'm guessing."

Sarah glared at Sinbad. "I want you _and _her out of my inn right now. I vowed to never get close to you. Ever. But here I am letting you _inside_. It is _more_ than you can hope for."

Sinbad went over to Sarah. "She is _not_ my wife," he whispered. "She is just my ex-girlfriend, I promise."

"_Ex-girlfriend_?" Sarah demanded. She whirled to Marina. "Is he kidding around? Are you another one of his ex-girlfriends or are you his wife?"

Marina put her hands on her hips. "We're married! Look." She stretched out his left hand. A beautiful diamond ring perched on her slender tan finger.

Sarah was at the breaking point.

Her son was to be killed at sunset.

She was going to be living alone for the rest of her life.

She was financially dying.

Her husband was lying to her about girlfriends and wives.

"She's my girlf—" Sinbad began again.

"BULLSHIT!" Sarah whirled around. It was the first curse word she had practically ever said, and in front of her husband. It sounded like something _Jim_ would be saying.

Sinbad and Marina looked taken aback. Sinbad narrowed his eyes. "Don't start—"

"You're don't control me!" Sarah slapped Sinbad across the face.

He staggered back in shock.

Sarah wiped her red puffy eyes and glanced at the wall clock. "Jim's execution is in an hour," she said with a sniffle. "I have to go."  
She had surprised herself today.

* * *

_I don't have anything to say._

_-Jim_

As Jim walked up to the stage in the Public Square he looked at the scared crowd of people about to witness the execution.

Rhimes stood next to the King and Principal Clayton, who looked unhappy but wouldn't make eye contact with Jim.

The executioner stood robed in black with a giant axe. Jim had begun trembling. He thought maybe he would start to cry.

He wanted to see Wendy and his mother, but what really gnawed at him and surprised him was that he wanted to see his father.

He wished his father would come and make things right. He wished for himself to imagine a _dream _where his father made things right.

He didn't even care if it was real anymore.

He saw Wendy, with Dani's arms wrapped tightly around her.

He scanned the crowd again for people he knew. He saw the Triton Girls, Ariel looking shocked and taken aback, one hand covering her mouth.

He saw Gaston, in the back, his eyes narrowed as he glared at Jim. The officers directed Jim to the podium, where he stood awkwardly, waiting to die. He stared at Gaston, and Gaston's glare disappeared. His ice blue eyes softened, and he sighed, looking away.

Jim found his mother in the back of the crowd, sobbing. He wanted her, all of a sudden. He didn't care if it was childish or stupid, he wanted to be young again, with his mom's arms around him. He was scared and confused—he was being killed for a crime he hadn't committed.

"Stand right there," the guard ordered him. "Don't try to run, don't try to—"

Jim shut his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

The execution was about to start.

Jim's heart was about to beat out of his chest. He heard Wendy crying in the crowd. Jim tried to block out noises, but it was just too hard.

Suddenly, there was a flash of smoke and fire next to him, and the tallest man he had ever seen, wearing a long black robe with blue flames for his hair.  
The crowd gasped audibly.

"Hello!" the man waved cheerfully. "I haven't seen this many people gathered in one place for a long, long time. Ah, James Pleiades Hawkins, is it?" He placed his hand on Jim's shoulder.

Jim pulled away. "Get the hell off me."

Hades smiled. "So here's the deal, dear people. I take Hawkins here, and King," he turned to the King. "You get your daughter back."  
The King nodded.

He turned to Jim. "You shouldn't even be alive right now. Do you remember the fire, boy?"  
Jim began to stare at the ground. "Stop it."  
"Stop _what_?" Hades demanded. "You're going to die anyway, the people have a right to know."  
Jim glared at the Lord of the Dead.

Hades smiled. "So last year, there was a fire at the Benbow Diner. Jim Hawkins _died_ in the fire. He died and I came to take his soul."

If the people were surprised when Hades had first arrived, they were _shocked_ now.

"But his girlfriend, Ellie, believed he had a future. She exchanged lives with him. I took her instead. _She_ is the reason Jim is alive today. And now he is going to be with her." He grinned at Jim. "Excited?"  
Jim didn't say a word, but his shoulders were shaking as he remembered Ellie.

"Alright." Hades slapped his hands together. "Let's get this show on the road, people! But before executing this boy, I'm supposed to say one good thing about him." Hades stroked his long blue-tinted chin, then smiled. "He always took care of his mother, no matter what. He loved her, even if he rubs off as a lone wolf."  
Jim's head snapped up at the term.

Hades extinguished the blue flames on his head. "Jim, would you like to say your last words right now?"  
Jim glanced at the crowd. "I want my mom," he said, no matter how childish that sounded. He was gonna die anyway.

His mother pushed through. "Baby, I'm right here!" she cried, grabbing his hands. He knelt down and gave her an awkward hug.

"I love you, Jim," she whispered.

Jim hesitated, then nodded. "I love you too."  
His mother looked surprised—it was the first time Jim had said that to his mother since his father had left home.

The next person to push forward was Sinbad. He was _crying_. Jim narrowed his eyes and took a suspicious step back.

"Jim," said Sinbad, rubbing his eyes. His shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry. If this wasn't happening, would you give me another chance?"  
Jim stood. "This _is_ happening. And there's no way it's _not_."  
"Forgive me, son."  
Jim turned back to Sinbad, and saw himself older. _I would never leave my family_, Jim thought.

And then he nodded faintly to his dad.

He glanced at Wendy. He gave her a tiny sideways smile, but couldn't bring himself to say anything else.

She buried her face into Dani's shoulder.

Jim stood before the podium, his fingers balled up.

He thought of all the messed-up suffering and sadness in this world. He wished he could just remove what had happened in the past.

_I'm not a perfect person_

_There's many things I wish I didn't do_

_But I continue learning_

_I never meant to do those things to you_

_And so I have to say beforeI go_

_That I just want you to know_

_I've found a reason for me_

_To change who I used to be_

_A reason to start over new_

_And the reason is you. _

Jim shut his eyes tightly, thinking of Wendy and Ellie and Gaston and his father and his mother and every person he had ever met in his life. He pressed his fingers into his palms, then finally—

He let go.

He sank to his knees before the podium and placed his neck where the axe would cut.

_Please God._ _Please let me die fast. Don't let me feel that intense pain. Don't let me die a painful death._

The executioner raised the axe.

Jim closed his eyes, crying and praying and shaking.

Suddenly, a voice rang out from somewhere in the crowd.

"_STOP!" _

* * *

**Cliffhanger! -evil smile-**

**Guys, 3 reviews and I'll upload the next part. **

**And who do you think yelled "STOP?"**

**-Crystal**


	26. The Execution Part 2

**Hey guys! So apparently, I got those three reviews I needed. Yay! Slowly, we are on our way to 200. I'm really happy with those who stuck with me from the beginning! **

**So this is the Execution Part 2. The official name is, The Execution Part 2: The 100 Good Things About Peter Tremaine. **

**Maybe there will be a Part 3? Who knows. And don't hate me if there is...yet again...a stupid cliffhanger. **

**Really, guys, I hate writing them but they add to the "effect."  
-grins wildly-**

**Reply to Comments:**

**TheKingLion: Sorry! But here's the update! I typed fast. :D **

**Flying By Wire: Thank you so much! **

**ThelLonelyMonstersCompanion: Thank you so much for all your encouragement. I loved your comment a lot. And Sarah's POV also made me feel sad. :( Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Soooo...who do you think pressed the Pause Button on our execution? Who would want to save Jim's life? You're about to find out. **

**DUN-DUN-DAH! **

**-lets dramatic music play and then shuts it off because I'm excited about the actual chapter-**

**How do you guys feel about me adding song lyrics that add to the mood in the chapters? Let me know. **

**Okay. Onto the chapter, enough talking from me. Lips are sealed. **

**PS. I fell in love with Peter in this chapter. A thousand hearts for him. **

* * *

_It only takes one moment of bravery, insane courage, to do something good for someone else. _

_-Peter_

The crowd was quiet, and slowly turned to see the offender.

Rhimes stood up and was scanning the crowd.

Peter glanced over at Cindy, who was holding Char's hand and staring at him like he had two heads.

One moment of insane courage is all I need, Peter thought.

Peter felt his knees were about to collapse, but he strode forward, shoving through the crowd.

He climbed onstage and pointed at Jim. "He's innocent!"

The crowd gasped audibly again. Murmurs spread throughout, people expressing their shock.

"He's innocent?"  
"But he's _Jim Hawkins!_"  
"The cops 'ave been playin' us this whole time!"  
"Rhimes is a fraud!"  
"No, that ginger boy is a fraud! He's probably lyin' to get attention!"  
"I'm not lying!" Peter held up his hands for silence. "Please, just listen. Jim isn't the Crystal Thief."  
He stared at Cindy, who's hand flew to her mouth in surprise. She shook her head slowly.

Be brave, Peter. He silently begged himself not to fall over.

Jim was staring at him like he had two heads too.

Wendy's mouth was a perfect O.

He didn't even want to see Wendy's face right now. Instead, he looked for Alice. He found her in the crowd, her blue eyes going as wide as dinnerplates.

He gave her an awkward wave.

"You get down from there right now!" she mouthed.

Instead, Peter shook his head.

The old Peter would have laughed, been like, "Jk, he _is_ the Crystal Thief," and leaped off the stage to go to Alice.

But this was the new Peter. Peter sucked in his breath and stood on the stage. He turned to Rhimes, Principal Clayton, and the King.

"_I'M _the Crystal Thief." Peter waited for someone to say something.

It was Jim who spoke first, and his voice cracked and soared up two full octaves in surprise.  
"You _are_?"  
Peter turned to him and pressed his lips together. "I am."  
Jim blinked. "So...I'm...I can go?"  
Peter glanced back at Rhimes. Rhimes was shaking his head in disbelief. "Sir," he was saying to the King. "This _can't_ be possible—we found it in his room—he's guilty—I don't know who this redhaired boy is—"

"Don't know who this boy is?" Hades glided forward, a smirk on his face. "I'll tell you who, Rhimes. This boy is _Peter Tremaine_. Anybody know him?" He looked across the crowd. "Let's play a game, shall we? Raise your hand if you know him."  
Nobody moved. They murmured and rustled, and Peter stood awkwardly behind Hades's large body, trying not to look at the giant axe.

Jim just stood in front of the podium, staring at Wendy and his mother and at the back of Peter's head. He was still in shock with what was happening. The execution was being _stopped_.

_If this weren't happening, would you give me another chance?  
_Jim swayed, and grabbed onto the post that held up the execution podium. His knees felt like jelly. He wasn't the Crystal Thief. He wasn't going to die!

But Peter was going to die.

"Raise—your—hand!" Hades yelled. "Do any of you sad-sack good-for-nothing worthless _losers_ know who this boy is? This arrogant, selfish, cocky boy who lives in a rich family and thinks of nobody but himself? Who plays people and _uses_ people to get what he wants?" Hades stopped ranting and grinned at Peter, smacking him in the back. "Hey! You're exactly the type of person I want in my Dead Society." He chuckled. "You're even worse than Earring Boy here."  
Jim scowled.

"It's a good thing," Hades assured him. "You're both like me. Anyway," he added. "So, King, it's alright with you if Red here dies, right? You don't care who it is as long as your daughter comes out of the Underworld alive?"

The King hesitated, then nodded. "If this Red boy is rightly the Crystal Thief, then he deserves to die."  
Peter bit his lip and nodded. He turned to the crowd. "Look, I—" He was running out of his hourglass of bravery. The scale was tipping, the sand was almost at the bottom. He breathed in oxygen to try and get some of his determination back. He had to do this—it was the right thing.

"Look," he began. "I'm not the nicest guy in the world, I'll admit it. I'm everything Hades said. Arrogant, selfish, cocky. I use people. It's true. I don't deserve to live." He looked at Jim. "I framed Jim Hawkins because I was in love with his girlfriend, Wendy Darling." He saw Alice gasp. He turned to her. "I'm not anymore. I realize it was stupid to be chasing after a girl that Jim obviously deserved." He grinned at Wendy, then Jim.

Jim nodded quietly, and Wendy gave Peter a small smile. A tear trickled down her cheek. He looke at Alice to see her reaction, and she was crying too. And nodding. She approved.

Peter continued. "And—then I had a realization that I was doing this all wrong. This isn't how I'm supposed to live life. By framing other people to get who and what I want. Jim has a lot to offer the world. He has a future—but I don't. I'm not the smartest guy, the most efficient guy, the most hardworking guy."

He swallowed. The sight of that axe and the true confessions of his heart was making his determination flush down the toilet. His throat was dry, but he forced himelf to swallow and carry on. "If anyone deserves to die, it's me." Peter lowered his gaze. "I'll go with Hades," he turned to the King. "I never meant to let your daughter die. I'm sorry. But when I go in, everything will be made right. And Kida will come back to life."

He turned to Wendy next. "Wendy. I'm really sorry for all the hurt I caused you. I was childish and immature and I'm super sorry. Can you ever forgive me for what I did?"  
Wendy nodded. "Yes, Peter. Yes, I forgive you." She smiled at him through her tears.

Next up on my list, Peter thought. _Alice_. "Alice Wonderkin," he said softly. "I like you. A lot. Every moment we've spent together have been awesome and weird and funny. I'm the kind of person who doesn't want people to know my inner feelings, but I feel them for you. I hope you're not too pissed at me." It was a question in disguise.

Alice blew him a kiss. "I'm not," she said, pushing to the front. Peter bent down to her, and she kissed him on the cheek.

He turned bright red, but still turned to Jim, who just nodded at him with tears in his eyes.

Peter touched Jim's shoulder, without knowing what else to do. "I'm _so _sorry. I know, I'm an asshole."  
"Dude," Jim shook his head, his voice shaking. "Dude, you just saved my life. You're a _hero_."  
Peter managed a shaky laugh. "I think if I wasn't gonna die right now, we'd be friends."  
Jim gave him a grin that meant yes, then jumped off the stage.

"One more thing," Peter said. He found Cindy's eyes. She was sobbing.

"My best friend in the whole wide world," Peter said, taking a deep breath. "Cindy Tremaine. She has been a prisoner since she was twelve years old at the Tremaine House. She has been forced to cook and clean and look after her stepfamily without an ounce of gratefulness or pay." He turned to Rhimes. "I want you to personally make sure that family pays her back."  
Rhimes looked at the King. The King nodded.

Rhimes looked back at Peter. "Absolutely," he said.

"Cindy," Peter looked at her. "You are my best friend, and you always will be. I just wished I was there for you more when you needed me."  
Cindy opened her mouth, but Peter turned away because he was afraid he might cry from all the emotions coasting inside him like a tidal wave.

His brave was all used up, and he collapsed in front of the podium, laying his head down.

"Alriiiiight!" Hades pumped his fist in the air. "Okay, time for me to say my words, and then let's get to the executioning." He was thinking. Then he began to chuckle. "I have absolutely _nothing good_ to say," he said finally. "about Peter Tremaine. _Nothing_. There is nothing selfless or affectionate he has done from the heart in his life. Not one thing. So I guess we can skip that today." Hades smiled and extinguished his flame once again. "Now can we get to the killing, please?"

Suddenly, Wendy raised her hand timidly. "Peter saved my boyfriend's life," she said, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. "That's one good thing about him."

Hades's smile faded a little. "Well, then," he said darkly. "That's one good thing."  
"He saved _my life_!" Jim stood up too. "That's another good thing. I know _I _wouldn't have been brave enough. But he was. So that's another good thing."  
"He is the funniest person in the world." Alice stood up. "He's really great on the inside, once you get to know him."  
"He's the best friend you can have." Cindy stood. "He always cared about me. Peter, you were always there for me whenever I needed you."  
Flynn stood as well. "I wanted to help Peter pawn that Crystal to a homeless man in exchange for a lot of money. He never sold me out."  
"_You just sold yourself out_!" some guy yelled.  
Flynn blinked. "Oops." But then he narrowed his eyes. "It takes a good friend to keep a secret as bad as that."  
Peter was grinning like crazy up on the stage. He even had a few tears in his eyes, though he was trying to be strong.

Some of the Triton Girls were nodding their consent. "Yeah, he's cool!" They were saying.

"Once I lost my wallet!" yelled some girl in pigtails. "And Peter brought it to me instead of keeping the money inside. Not even _one dollar_ was missing."  
Dani laughed. "Peter confessed his crime. I think it takes the strongest, awesomest person in the world to do that."  
One by one, a bunch of people stood up and began to talk about the good things about Peter Tremaine.

The list grew, going on and on.

Sarah Hawkins smiled. "You saved my son's life!" she yelled at Peter. "For that, I am forever in your debt."

"Thank you!" yelled Sinbad.

The list continued. Soon, there were about a hundred good things said about Peter. Half of it was exaggerated, but Peter had never been happier in his entire life.

"He was a best friend to me when I had none," Cindy said.

"ENOUGH!" yelled Hades. "Can we just get on with the execution? Boy, you get ready for that axe."

Peter sank to his knees, still smiling, thinking of what had just happened.

_I'm going to die. _

_I'm really going to die. _

_I always thought I'd die of old age, but I am ABOUT TO BE KILLED. _

_All because I was greedy and stupid._

_At least I saved someone's life. _

_That's what counts, right?_

_OH SWEET MOTHER OF HELL THIS IS GONNA HURT LIKE SHIT!  
_The executioner raised the axe—

There was a wave of blue fire right behind Peter—

The events happened so fast they were a blur—

He turned around to see a thin, slender ghost hovering behind him.

She smiled at him. "Hello, Peter."

* * *

**Another cliffhanger, though not as bad as the other one. Poor Peter. I loved his speech, and totally thought he was awesome in this chapter. **

**So enjoy! I'm raising the bar, people—Gimme 5 more reviews, and I will update this. **

**-Crystal **


	27. The Execution Part 3

**Greetings, my amazing readers! **

**My apologies for not uploading before. And yay, people have been reviewing a lot!**

**I AM AT 200 REVIEWS! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!**

**Disneyfan, who is a guest, is my 200th reviewer. She scored that spot by reviewing every chapter with great things about this story. **

**Thank you SOOOOOO much, disneyfan. You are now MY biggest fan. **

**What would you like for your reward? Would you like to star in the next chapter? Idk, that's pretty much all I can give you. **

**There is still more to the story. Big drama with Ariel and Arista coming up. And there is still some more Dani/Flynn fluff I have to do, and Esmeralda and Frollo. So please don't give up on the Crystal Thief! Everybody who stuck by me, I love you and thank you a million times over. I give you guys all happy faces. **

**Yeah, that's it. There ain't no trumpet fanfare or anything, sadly. **

**Reply To Comments: **

**TheLonelyMonstersCompanion: I know! I was about to lose faith in him with all the bad moves he did, but I knew in the end that Peter would be weaved back together as a hero. **

**Flying By Wire: Thank you for all your support! I know, that's EXACTLY what I thought of Peter. :D **

**Guest: (The one that said nooooooooo) Me too. Except when I write them, they're fun. –evil grin- I'm kidding. Don't worry, maybe this chapter doesn't have a cliffhanger...or maybe it does.**

**Guest: Awww, thank you so much! Who doesn't love Peter Pan? Especially when he saves his best friend before he dies? **

**Pleader: Here it is! **

**Zulily: Yikes. That scared me at first, but then I laughed. Thank you! Keep reading and reviewing! **

**Disneyfan: Thank youuuuuuuu hon, for all your support. **

**Disneygurl12: Hehe, yeah, exactly. Thank you! **

**Avril Lambert: IKR! He finally proved himself to the world...**

**Three Caballeros Girl: Thank you for all your support...and your awesome, awesome review. Reviews make me hyper! Please continue to R&R! **

**Wow, guys. That was more than 5 reviews! BUT EVERY SINGLE ONE IS TREASURED IN MY HEART! **

**Onto the story! **

**-Crystal**

* * *

_Darkness and floating ghosts is not how I imagined I'd spend my eternity. But I'm sure I made the right choice—everyone has to make hard decisions at least ONCE in their life. _

_-Kida_

Kida was pale blue and floating, her hair flying in the slightest movement of the people around her. She smiled at the redhaired boy who was kneeling by the execution podium.

"Princess Kida." Hades looked pissed. "What are you doing, may I ask? I thought you were supposed to be watching the Execution from the Hall of Souls."  
"I wanted to see the young man that stole my Crystal," Kida responded, brushing white hair off her face and staring Peter down.

Peter shifted his gaze to the floor.  
Hades gestured at the executioner, who lifted the axe.

"Wait," Kida floated in front of Hades, looking pale and small in comparison to the seven-foot god of the Underworld.

"_What_?" Hades demanded, looking upset.

Kida pressed her lips together. "I want to say something."  
The murmurs started up in the crowd.

"A ghost!"  
"It's the princess!"

"She's gonna tear Gingerboy apart!"  
"She wants to be avenged!"  
"She's beautiful, isn't she? Shame she's dead—I'd make a move on her."  
"Kidagakash!" cried the King, lifting his hands feebly. Mr. Clayton looked horrified, and Rhimes was staring at Kida like she had just came back from the dead—which she had.

Kida held up a hand to her father. She turned to Hades. "The deal was, the one who stole my Crystal dies, I come back to life. Is that right?"

Hades nodded, looking bored, holding something that looked like a glowing cigarette between his pointed teeth.

"Well, then, I cut the deal."

Hades choked on the cigarette, and it vanished in a puff of gray smoke. "Excuse me, Princess?"

He put his face up close to hers. "I don't think so. I made this deal so you could return to Earth and rule your people. The deal was, someone else dies and you come back to life."  
"I take the deal back," Kida replied calmly.

"There are no take-backs!" Hades whined, sounding like a child in kindergarten who had tagged a kid, only to have them tag him back.

Kida glared. "Who said? You said nothing about take-backs. This is _my_ deal. And I can change it in whatever way I want."  
"You don't want revenge?" Hades demanded. "He used your Crystal for evil!"

"Everyone makes mistakes," Kida said slowly. "Even gods. But he corrected his mistake by saving a life. He knew what he did was wrong and he saved the person he wronged, when he could have left them there to die."  
"He's an _abomination_!" Hades howled.

"I don't care." Kida narrowed her eyes. She turned to Peter. She bowed low to the ground, and unsure of what to do, he bowed back, glancing at the crowd, who looked freaked out. He was bowing to a ghost.

"I would be _honored_ to let such a courageous young man live." Kida smiled. "You are braver than most of us could ever hope to be. I know you used my Crystal for evil. But it is with my father now, and will continue its legacy with the heir of my kingdom, the person who will rule my people." She touched Peter's shoulder gently. "You did a good thing, Peter."  
Peter shook his head. "But Princess," he began. "You have to rule your kingdom. The world needs you. You're a princess. But I'm not needed—"

Kida swallowed. She couldn't believe she was making this decision. "You're needed more than you think," she said with a nod. "I want you to stay alive. And I want you to _think before acting _next time. Do you understand, Peter?"  
Peter nodded rapidly. "Yes!"

Kida nodded and turned back to Hades.

"How is this gonna work?" Hades asked her, gripping her arm. "I haven't gotten anyone new for my Dead Society yet!"

"Yes, you have someone new." Kida pointed to herself. "Me."  
Hades crinkled his brow. "You'd do that for this pint-sized waste of oxygen?" He gestured at Peter, who blushed bright red.  
Kida nodded solemnly. "He deserves to live. He has a life, a reason to live."  
Hades closed his eyes and chuckled. "As you wish. This will be an eternity."  
"I know."  
"Spent with me and the Lost Souls."  
"I know." Kida sighed.

"Stuck as a ghost for the rest of your life in a dark gloomy cavern. You sure you want to do this, Princess? You have a chance to live, be flesh and blood, to feel the world around you. You just say the word and this boy will die. You can live."

_Alive_.

The word had never meant so much to Kida before. Alive meant breathing and walking and running and holding things without them falling through your hand. Alive meant your heart was beating loud inside your chest and you could feel your blood coursing through your veins and your internal organs working. You could feel the warmth of your skin under your clothes, and the feel of your tongue as you talked. Alive meant you were a part of this world, and dead meant you were part of another society, where people did not know you exist. Your records were gone, life moved on. Like you were words written in black marker on a whiteboard, and then erased. Just like that. No way of capturing your face again, bringing images of you back to life to see you laugh and move around and not glowing but just you, in all the colors that made you _you_.

Kida took a deep breath. She was moving into a new stage of her life—eternity.

Her stages had been small and unimportant so far—graduation, warrior princess, for a short time, a financier of Disney High, and now, a ghost in the Underworld. The choice she would make now would be far more important than to go to war with a kingdom or not. The choice she now made would decide whether she would live or die. Whether she would be dead or alive. And this was huge.

Kida looked at Peter. One word. That's all it took. She'd be a princess, home with her father to rule her people and take care of them. Back in the lush mountains of Atlantis to live life far away from probing Palefaces and never become scared or depressed or sick again.

To live, to feel her own beating heart, to marry, to run her fingers over her arm and feel the tiny hairs and the heated skin.

Her one last chance.

Kida looked up at Hades. "I choose—"

**The End of This Chapter! Sorry, no more POVs. It's the end! Wait for the next chapter! I know what a cruel cliffhanger. I actually feel bad.**

**No, jk. **

**Keep reading, I thought it was too cruel to cut you guys off like that in the middle of Kida's big dramatic decision. **

**So keep going! **

"I choose death."  
Hades had barely ever been surprised in his lifetime, but he defenitely was now. He raised his eyebrows, then nodded. "So be it."  
Kida ran to her father and hugged him one last time, tightly. Tears rolled down his face.  
"We must forgive, Papa," she said simply.

She felt how cold she was. Her life and blood and human-ness was slowly draining away. She was becoming paler, she was glowing.

She was becoming a ghost. Hades's ghost. Nothing but another pawn in his Underworld chess game.

She stared at him, then began to feel a gentle suction coming from Hades's robe.

He smiled.

She nodded. His robe was made of the Lost Souls that had accomplished something in their lifetime, and in the end, ended up in the Underworld.

As Kida began to vanish, Peter smiled at her.

He had much to offer the world, she knew.

And she realized—she had made the right choice after all.

* * *

_Kida taught me to forgive._

_-Jim_

As soon as Kida had gone, Wendy saw Peter stand there looking so confused, and then Rhimes walked to center stage after bickering with the King and Mr. Clayton briefly.

"Citizens of New York," he said, clearing his throat. "Er, it appears that Mr. Jim Hawkins is innocent, according to...sources. And it _also _appears that—" He turned back to the King, who nodded slowly with his eyes glowing with sorrow.

"—Mr. Tremaine is free to go." Rhimes narrowed his eyes, scanning the crowd.

"I ask that Lady Tremaine and her two daughters come speak with me, please, shortly, per request of Mr. Tremaine." He turned to Peter. "Uh, you may go."  
Peter hopped off the stage as people began to scurry around in pandemonium, trying to ask questions and get answers they simply would not get.

_How much more awkward could Rhimes look?  
_Wendy looked at Peter and smiled. She wrapped her arms around Jim's neck, crying into his shoulder.

Jim ran his hands through Wendy's hair, trying to comfort her. He pressed his lips briefly onto hers, and Wendy leaned into the kiss, loving every inch of it.

"Ohmy_goodness_!" Charlotte LaBouff ran back to Jim and grabbed Peter by the arm, linking arms with th two of them. "Boys, that was amazin'!" Charlotte giggled. "Wen, how are ya, dear?  
"Okay," Wendy said, giving Charlotte a small smile.

Charlotte bounced up and down. "The Disney High Newspaper Club wants to interview you at once!"  
"We have a newspaper club?" Jim raised his eyebrows.  
"Cool!" Peter crowed. "Now everybody can read about how awesome I am!"

"Son, son!" Sinbad pushed his way through the crowd to find Jim.

Wendy twisted around from talking to the blonde girl named Alice Wonderkin to see what would happen.

Jim turned, and raised his eyebrows.

Wendy reached for him, but dropped her hand. Jim had to solve these problems on his own.

"Son!" Sinbad grabbed his shoulder. "What you said up on the stage—we got a second chance. Would you be willing to—I mean, me and your mom, it's clear we're not meant for each other. But still, I want to be your father. You make your old man proud."  
Jim stared at his dad. The man he had prayed to God to never end up as. The man he had prayed would never show up again. The man he once considered his hero.

An older reflection of him. Looking at Sinbad Hawkins was like taking a glimpse into the future. Jim blinked. "Yeah, Dad. I think a second chance would be cool."  
"That's _awesome_, Jimmy!" Sinbad beamed. "I can't wait." He clapped him on the shoulder and started venturing back into the crowd.

"Oh, and Dad?" Jim called.

Sinbad turned. "Yes?"

Jim grinned slyly. "It's _Jim_."

* * *

**Isn't Jim Hawkins HOT? Like, that last line just made me smile. (Repeat of Chapter 2, btw)**

**Okay! So that's the end of the Execution. The BIGGEST part of the story is over. –sniff, sniff-The story is coming to an end. And I really grew to love it. So many people helping and showing support, and I don't want it to end. **

**But the act still goes on! The main event is done and solved, but there are still little dramas going on in the lives of our other Disney characters! **

**-starts up Pirates of the Caribbean Theme Music while I rant about what happens next while praying I don't give anything major away-**

**And will Peter and Jim and Wendy and Alice be able to patch up the remains of their emotions after the execution? What will become of Esmeralda, injured and weak, when Reverend Frollo comes to visit her in the hospital when she is sick and paralyzed? What will happen when Arista is forced to reveal herself to her sisters and father when a dreadful accident happens? Peter isn't a prince, but will he get the happily ever after that he deserves? Will Jim's innocence erase his criminal records? Keep waiting for Chapter 28 of THE CRYSTAL THIEF! **

**-turns off the music-**

**I'll update again this weekend, hopefully. Keep waiting for the next chapter! Tell me what part of the dramas mentioned above you would like featured in the next chapter—Esmeralda and Frollo; Aftermath of Execution (Sarah and Sinbad's POVs); Peter and Alice; the Triton Family Accident. Okay? Bye, people, see you in my next update! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. **

**Oh, yeah, and since you just finished reading all the way down to here, why don't you please just make me REALLY REALLY HAPPY and just write a review? It can be a smiley face for all I care. YOUR reviews are what make all this writing worthwhile. **

**Later!**

**-Crystal **


	28. Two Romances

**Hey you guys! So thanks to everybody that reviewed. I love you all forever! This is kind of short, I believe. But it's kind of the PeterXAlice, JimXWendy fluff that everybody requested. And there's a tiny part at the end that you won't expect, I think. It's not mentioned in the chapter title. Soooo, enjoy you guys! **

**Keep pestering me and I'll update. **

**I don't know...maybe 5 reviews and I'll update, I think? So start reading!**

**Reply to Comments: **

**Dynashakirkland1068: awwwwwwwwwww glad you liked it**

**Flying By Wire: Thank youuuuuu!**

**Avril Lambert: Lol, the Kermit flail! Gotta love that guy. **

**Whatyousaked: Oh, I get it. The smiley face. Lol, thanks!**

**Guest: You got your wish! Please don't hate if it's not up to what you desired. **

**Coral: Thank you! Yeah, me too! I'll try! And the Triton Girls thing is mentioned in the end. **

**TheLonelyMonstersCompanion: Thank you SO much. That was a beautiful review. You've been so supportive so thank you so much. **

**Dontsayimaslut: Ik, I really don't like cinderella that much. But anyway, glad you liked it! And yeah, I guess the story is coming to an end. I try to update fast. Keep reading and reviewing! **

**Loopy: Thank you! **

**Disclaimer: Okay, seriously. Do I REALLY have to keep doing this? I don't own Disney! Or else I'd be a millionaire and would live in a happy mansion under a rainbow and a smiley faced sun. **

**Enjoy! **

**-Crystal**

* * *

_Popcorn and a movie is the best way to wind down after an execution._

_-Alice_

Peter yawned and wrapped his arm around Alice as they sat in the dark of the movie theater. Alice didn't even know what movie they were watching, but she just wanted to be with Peter for the longest time.

Alice lay there, in Peter's arms.

Suddenly, she picked up Peter's hand and began to climb over the legs of a dozen annoyed people trying to watch the movie.

"Hey," hissed an annoying short guy behind them. "Blondie, we're trying to watch the movie!"

Alice ignored him and continued on with Peter.  
"Hey, we bought tickets," Peter panted as they were standing outside in front of the movie theater. "and we're wasting time. It's my favorite part in _Ender's Game_ right now!"  
Oh. So that's what the movie was called.

Alice wasn't interested. She just leaned up and cupped Peter's face in her hands. "Can I ask you a question, Peter?"

Peter swallowed, but couldn't nod since Alice was holding his face gently. Instead he grinned, the right side of his mouth curving higher up than the left in an adorable fashion. Alice took that as a yes and stepped forward, her elbows grazing Peter's sturdy chest. "Why did you choose to save Jim today? If Kida hadn't stepped in, you would have died in Jim's place. Why did you do that?"  
Peter didn't say a word, but reached up for Alice's wrist to hold them against his flaming cheeks. "I—" he stopped, then looked down at his feet.

Alice had tears in her eyes and she ran her fingers through his reddish hair. "Tell me."  
"I was...terrified," Peter began. "I didn't want to. But—" He sucked in a breath. "It was just so _wrong_. What I did. I mean, it was childish and so immature of me to try and kill Jim to get his girlfriend. Like, I didn't even like Wendy anymore by the day of the Execution. I liked _you_."  
Alice looked startled, but Peter kept talking, ignoring her facial expression. "Then I thought that doing the right thing isn't always easy, but it's always right."  
Alice chuckled. "What?"  
Peter shrugged. "It's just a saying. And I had a spot scored in hell for me if I didn't stand up for Jim. He was being put to death for something he didn't had a family, a girlfriend, a reason to live. And I was taking all that away, and lying." He stared at Alice. "It took me one moment. One second of insane courage and bravery to yell 'stop.' After that, it was like I had no idea what I was doing. It was automatic."  
Alice smiled. "I would've hated it if you had died, but I thought it was very brave of you to save a life like that. And what you said up on the stage about your inner feelings and love and me and was that all true?" Her words were jumbled—she desperately wanted it to be true.

Peter nodded eagerly. "It's true." He paused. "If you don't want it to be—"

"I want it to be true!" Alice bounced up and down. "It _better _be true," she teased, shoving Peter playfully in the shoulder. She stopped and then traced her thumb along Peter's palm.

Peter looked down at her. "Are you going back later?"

Alice glanced away. "I guess I must." Alice lived with her sister, the most boring person ever, or so she said. Her sister majored in Literature, and worked at a library with some of her friends and was barely ever at the house. Alice felt neglected there.

"No," Peter whispered. "Please—please never go. I want you to stay with me."  
"Oh, Peter," said Alice sadly. "You live with Lady Tremaine and—"

"We'll do_ something_," Peter said. "Cindy said she'd help. Maybe an apartment—"

"We're freshmen."  
"We can live with Cindy."  
"She has a boyfriend, Peter!" Alice bit her lip. She hated shooting down his ideas, but they weren't making sense. And she wanted so desperately to stay.

Tears rested on Peter's short red eyelashes. "We'll think of something."

Alice sighed and gave in. "Okay."

Suddenly, Peter leaned forward. "I love you, okay, Alice? I just wanted to tell you."  
Alice looked up in surprise. "Peter, wh—"

He cut her off. He leaned forward and planted his lips firmly onto hers, his face bright pink. His lips tasted like the butter on popcorn, and Alice thought of the fire at the Tremaine house. She laughed as they kissed, because she loved it.

She loved _him_.

Peter abruptly pulled away. "Sorry!"

Alice shook her head. "No, no, Peter. It's fine, really."  
Peter shoved his hands in his pockets. "I wanted my first kiss to be with you. And—I couldn't wait any longer."

Alice grinned. "It was nice. Tasted like popcorn."  
Peter blushed fire-engine red. "Yeah."

"Was all that real? About loving me?"  
Peter nodded. "I _swear_. I'm not lying. And sorry about the sudden kiss. I didn't mean to take you aback like that."  
Alice leaned against him. "O-kay." Then she grabbed his arm tightly. "Wait, if you were really telling the truth about the love, can we kiss again?"  
Peter grinned. "Alright."  
Underneath the layers of annoying immaturity, mockery and sarcasm, Peter Tremaine was soft. If you got to know him, which Alice knew she most defenitely had.

She could only hope this love was of the forever kind.

* * *

"_How do you feel after the Execution?" asked Jane Porter, representative from the Disney High Newspaper club. She was apparently writing a piece for the Walt Disney High Chronicles. "Um," I said. Real nice, Jim. Real nice. _

"_Don't be shy," she told me, and giggled. _

"_Relief?" I asked. _

"_What's the first thing you're going to do now that you're free and out of jail?" she asked, scribbling her pencil against the paper. _

"_Uh," I said again, smoothly. I spotted Wendy's face. "I'm gonna spend time with my girlfriend," I said. "And I have a few things to talk about with my parents. So, I'm just gonna go."  
Wow. The look on her face. She tried to stop me, but once I started running, there was no stopping me. _

_I became the wind. _

_-Jim _

Jim had come home to his mother.

His mother had changed. Since she was free of Sinbad, and now knew her son was not a felon, she had started wearing her hair down with hairspray. She had even gone so far as to put ribbons in her hair and on her dress.

Jim thought it was a nice change from her usual dirty raggedy clothes and grimy apron. He walked right into her arms and hugged her hard before she could even hug him.

She started sobbing into his shoulder and Jim didn't even mind. He was happy, for the first time in a long while.

His father did not come home. Instead, Jim met him at a Subway to talk, where his dad bought him a Premium Footlong.

Jim couldn't eat it all and he wasn't in the mood to digest food, so he ate a bag of chips and listened to his dad stumble all over his words.

"Marina's in the car so I have to get going," Sinbad was saying. "Tell Sarah I'm sorry for everything. For leaving, for whatever. Tell her she should get herself a good guy, unlike me, that cares for her. Because she deserves one." Sinbad looked embarrassed for admitting his own wrongdoings. He blinked several times, rapidly. "I'm glad you decided to forgive me. I'm really sorry, I was such a jackass it's not even funny."  
Jim shrugged. "You weren't the only jackass. I admit my faults too."  
Sinbad ran his hands through his hair, and Jim repeated the action. Sinbad chuckled. "Like father, like son, eh, Jimmy?"  
Seeing the _look _Jim gave him, Sinbad flinched and nodded. "Sorry. _Jim_."

Jim leaned back in his chair. "A while back, if anybody had said I was like you, I would have beat them up and buried them alive."  
Sinbad's cheeks flamed. "Isn't that a bit extreme, Jim?"  
Jim shook his head. "I hated you, Dad. I hated you so much I didn't know whether I wanted you to come home, or whether I wanted to strangle you with my bare hands. But then I realized that I should forgive. And as long as I changed my future and made sure I didn't walk out on my own family, I wouldn't be like you."  
Jim ran his hands through his hair again, without knowing it, then smiled. "But we're like each other a lot."  
"When I was young," Sinbad said, scrutinizing Jim. "I looked a lot like you, boy. I think you'll end up sorta lookin' like me."  
"Well, then," Jim teased. "I better save up for plastic surgery."  
Sinbad looked startled for a moment, then burst out laughing, slapping Jim heartily on the shoulder. "You never change."  
They stared at each other for a long time. Jim remember his promise on the stage, all his childhood trying to please his father, and at last, those bonds were mended. He felt better than he did in a long time. The Crystal Thief was forever gone—hopefully—and he had a nice relaxing evening with Wendy to look forward to after his dad went back to Marina.

Sinbad cleared his throat and stood. "I'm gonna get going." He started out the door. "Need a ride, Jim?" he asked. "Can you walk?"  
Jim jerked his chin at Joaquin Street. "It's just down there. I'll walk."  
Sinbad nodded. "I'll be emailing, Jim. And don't be a hater like last time."  
Jim put on his jacket. "Sure. And be nice to Marina." Jim raised his eyebrows. "Don't walk out on her."  
Sinbad nodded, pressing his lips together.

They defenitely did not have that father-son bond most people have. They could barely stand each other. But they had a silent understand caused by a promise on the verge of death.

Both had to remember who they was and who they forever would be.

* * *

At home, his mother peppered him with questions, as to how and what had happened, why Jim was drenched.

"I walked home in the rain," Jim replied to her. "I'm gonna go out on the porch and wait for Wendy, okay? You can go to bed."

Jim was sitting outside, in the warm night, rain falling gently from the dark sky.

His phone pinged with a text message.

**Girl-in-blue-dress: hey jim. Daddy just came home and he is actually sober for once. I'm coming over, ok?**

Jim grinned and texted back.

**jHawkinsbro, in reply to Girl-in-blue-dress: i'll meet you halfway. **

**Girl-in-blue-dress, in reply to jHawkinsbro: you dont have to, jim, im almost there**

Jim spotted her walking, in the rain, in a pair of white shorts and a fringed pale pink tank top.

**jHawkinsbro: nah. Im coming. **

**Girl-in-blue-dress: If you are, then i have something to tell u. **

Jim laughed and ran through the rain. His hair and jacket and clothes were all wet, and his workboots sloshed through wet grass and mud puddles. He swooped her off the street and spun her around in the air.

Wendy's light brown hair was wet and stuck to her face. She smelled like faint soap and flowers, and she leaned forward and kissed him.

He wrapped his arms around her as they began walking down the driveway towards the Benbow Diner's porch.

"So what is it you wanted to tell me?" Jim looked at Wendy.

She grinned in a mysterious way. "_Secret_. I was just kidding—I wanted you to get your butt over there and kiss me, Jim."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "Tell me!"  
Wendy giggled and began to run away from him, slipping and sliding all over the grass. Jim finally caught up to her, knocking her down. His fingers crept to her sides and he tickled her. The two of them lay there, tangled up in each other, in the rain on the ground.

Jim reached down and kissed her so gently Wendy barely felt it.

"Wimp," she teased him.

"I can go harder," Jim told her.

Wendy narrowed her eyes. "Yeah? Bring it on."  
They kissed hard, Jim pushing his hands in and out of Wendy's hair, her fingers shoving against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

She felt the sturdy coldness underneath.

When they finally broke away, Jim buried his face in her neck. "Tell me now?"  
"Okay," Wendy breathed. "I love you."  
Jim traced the outline of her lips with his fingers. "I love you too." He smirked. "That's a big thing for me—honestly, I've never told a girl I loved her."  
"But you've had other girlfriends, right?" Wendy demanded.

"I never loved them like I loved you," Jim responded.

Wendy swallowed. "Oh." She kissed him harder.

Jim pulled her up slowly, off the ground. "Wanna go in? It's getting cold, and wet, and I hate being cold and wet."  
Wendy's teeth were chattering from the rain and she pressed up close to him. Jim pulled off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. "That better?"  
Wendy smiled and pulled the ends closer in. "You're such a gentleman."  
Jim grinned. "I know. And I drink tea with my pinky out."  
Wendy burst out laughing. "My, my. You're so _cute_, you know that? I'm so lucky to have you as my boyfriend."

Jim smiled. "Yeah, you are."  
Wendy swatted him.

He held the door open, and the two of them went in.

"Wanna spend the night?" Jim asked her when she handed his coat back. "Like, in my room? Just to stay?"

Wendy smiled. She couldn't think of anything more she wanted to do so bad. "Absolutely."  
She kept hearing what Jim said over and over in her head:

_Honestly, I've never told a girl I loved her. _

_But you've had other girlfriends, right?_

_I never loved them like I love you. _

* * *

_The lights were all I saw_.

-_Ariel_

"Ariel!" Jasmine, one of Ariel's best friends, beckoned to her from the YMCA entrance.

Ariel glanced in that direction. "What the hell...?"  
She had climbed out from the pool at her local YMCA dripping with chlorine, arm and leg mucles aching, but feeling great about her laps and her time.

Coach Shang had been very happy with her time, and told her to keep practicing.

Jasmine didn't have a prayer, Ariel thought, her competetiveness kicking in. She was the one going to the Olympics, if Coach Shang believed in her and she practiced hard enough.

She was the most dedicated out of all the sisters to swimming.

Ariel wore her bathing suit under her acid-wash denim shorts and her white off-the-shoulder Adam and the Beasty Boys band t-shirt.

She was headed for her clunky car, parked across the street. But instead, she waited for Jasmine to run to her.

"Ariel, my dad dropped me off and an urgent meeting came up. Could you please give me a ride home?" Jasmine requested.

Ariel nodded. "Sure."  
They headed for Ariel's car, and Jasmine climbed into the passenger side. "Let's turn on the radio," Jasmine told Ariel. Ariel obliged.

As they were listening to Pitbull and Avril Lavigne on the radio, they heard the bellow of a truck near the left side as they went down the lonely lane towards Jasmine's isolated mansion owned by her mega-rich father.

The truck was spinning out of control. Ariel just had time to see the yellow lights spread out across the windshield and catch the driver's shocked expression and hear Jasmine's piercing scream next to her before the truck and her car collided and she blacked out.

* * *

**Uh-oh. What will become of Ariel Triton? The girl who had a chance at the Swimming Olympics? What happened to Jasmine? Will anyone die? How will this affect Arista?**

**Okay. So, there's that. And I thought the song "Car Crash" by Our Lady Peace would go well with Ariel's accident. Oh well. Mwahahahahah! What wil happen? Review and you'll find out! **

**And sorry for the long Italics thing I did for Jim. But I hope you guys overall enjoyed this chapter. **

**Like I said before, 5 more reviews and I'll update. **

**Bye! **

**-Crystal **


	29. Quasi's Reveal and the News

**Hey guys!**

**Wow, I haven't updated in a long time, actually. But I got the five reviews I needed to update. So please continue reviewing! My review number has gone down a lot! I know, I'm ungrateful. But what fanfiction author doesn't love getting showered in reviews? Jk, guys. But please do continue reviewing! **

**I will lower the bar a little, for NOW. **

**3 reviews and I will update. **

**No real news. Just wondering-what type of story should I write next? Should I continue in Disney? Should there be a sequel? I have no clue. I have a busy summer this year. So, yeah. REVIEW, peeps! Please?  
**

**Reply to Comments: **

**Flying By Wire: As always, great review. Here's the continuation of Ariel's car crash. **

**TheLonelyMonstersCompanion: Oh. Thank you so much. Yes, this is the next part! Yay! But there's another...cliffhanger. I'm sorry. I'll update fast this time, I promise. **

**Avril Lambert: Sums up a lot nicely. Thank you for that lovely review! Especially about the character development. It's what I aimed for. **

**Three Caballeros Girl: Lol, right? Please continue to R&R. **

**Tom's Girlfriend: Awwww, thank you! So much. Really, I mean it. I will forever treasure this review! :) **

**Enjoy the chapter, guys! **

* * *

_The Execution happened, and I got out of jail. People, being people, had pretended the ghost and the god of the Underworld were just hallucinations. But I believed different. _

_-Meg_

"Esme, wake up!" Phoebus was bent over her, looking worried. He whipped around to Dr. Sweet, the man who had tended to Kida before she had died. Dr. Sweet nodded, scratching his head. "Tell me who you are in relation to Miss Esmeralda."  
Phoebus looked frustrated as hell. "I'm her boyfriend. Phoebus. I just want to know—how bad is her injury?"  
"Not very," Dr. Sweet assured him. "There was bleeding, but that was from a cut on the _forehead_. Your friend Emmett exaggerated."  
"Emmett?" Phoebus narrowed his eyes, then gasped. "Oh, _Emmett._" Flynn had called him saying he was pretending to be Esmeralda's brother to get her into the Emergency Room and see what was happening.

Dr. Sweet nodded. "She has a few broken ribs, and her knee bone is thoroughly shattered. She'll need crutches after she gets out of the hospital. For a while, until the bone sets."  
Phoebus nodded. The damage seemed repairable.

Dr. Sweet considered, thinking. "She hit her head pretty hard. But she'll probably be waking up soon. The drop wasn't high considering she kept grabbing onto things as she fell to slow and stunt her fall. She's very lucky, Phoebus." He looked concerned. "But it would be nice if we had parents here to pay for her medical bills and whatnot."

Meg was leaned against the door with Holli and Quasi, trying to catch Dr. Sweet and Phoebus's conversation. She walked into the room, despite the look Dr. Sweet gave her.

"Excuse me," he said sternly. "No one but family is allowed in here."  
"_We_," said Meg, gesturing to Holli and Quasi and Phoebus, by the door, "are the only real family Esmeralda has in this world."  
Dr. Sweet stared at Phoebus. "No dad or mom? No other family?"

Phoebus glanced at Meg. "Did she ever mention—?"

"No," Meg said firmly. "Never."

"To hell with that." Holli stepped forward.

Dr. Sweet threw his arms up in the air. "Why don't we just invite the nation in here? What do you youngsters think this is—a free-for-all?"  
They ignored him and glared at Holli. "What?" Meg demanded. "Did Esme tell you otherwise?"  
Holli smiled smugly. "Unlike you, you naive little prude, I know where babies come from."  
Meg made a face at Holli. "Was I born yesterday? I know how babies are made."  
Holli nodded. "Exactly. So in order for Esme to be here, she must've had parents of some kind."

Quasi stepped forward shyly. "Um, Meg, can I say something?"  
Meg frowned. "What is it, Quasi?"  
"I know something about Esme's parents."  
Phoebus scowled. "Why would she tell you, Quasi, and not me?"  
Quasi glanced away. "See, I knew how you guys would take it. I'll just shut up."  
"Stop it, Phoebus!" Meg grabbed Quasi's arm. "This is putting Esme's life on the line, so I suggest you start talking, Quasi."  
Quasi sighed. "Her mom's name was Mirela. She was born and raised in a circus as a dancer. Same with her uncle, Clopin."  
"Funny guy, right?" Phoebus asked. "That clown that Esme used to live with when she was younger."

The others gave him funny looks.

"You _knew_ her uncle?" demanded Holli.

Phoebus shrugged. "Esme and I were neighbors."

"Anyway," Quasi continued. "According to the pastor at St. Peters—er, Reverend Frollo, I think—Mirela had been raped and killed by someone."  
Holli covered her mouth with hand and gasped. "Ohmygod!"  
Meg was taken aback. "Seriously?"  
Quasi nodded earnestly. "Pastors don't lie. And—her father, well. He was the ringmaster in the circus apparently. His name was Facilier. He knew all this voodoo and magic and he had the affair with Mirela when she and Clopin showed up homeless to join their circus. He loved Clopin's funny nature and Mirela's natural dancing talent. They had an affair later and apparently...made Esmeralda. But I think—when she was around ten years old, they recieved the tragic news at the circus that Mirela had died while..._out_."  
"That sucks." Meg knew her comment was snarky, but she now had an explanation for Esmeralda being such a flirt and a slut.

"Yeah." Quasi was staring at his feet. "She told me all this one day. She was crying. And I listened to her entire backstory."  
"Is this..._Facilier_ alive?" Dr. Sweet wanted to know. "What was the name of the circus?"  
"Facilier's Fabulous Circus," Quasi replied.

"Fancy." Phoebus spat. "Got a nice ring to it."  
"This Facilier sounds pretty shady," Holli said. "What if he killed Mirela?"  
"Why would he kill his own wife?" Meg demanded.  
"People have their reasons," Holli answered darkly.

"The circus is probably long gone," Quasi cut in. "They move around by train around the country. They could be across America by now. And I don't know if the circus split apart or anything. But what Esmeralda said a year ago is that Clopin is still alive. After Mirela died, he split from the circus and lives with his family in Notre Dame."  
"Is that a city?" Meg wanted to know. She had never left New York City.

"A square nearby here," Phoebus realized. "Notre Dame. The square near Bronson, where St. Peters is. There's a lot of detached circus freaks living homeless there. They tell stories and dance and do anything for money and food. That's probably where Clopin's at. It makes sense now."  
"D'ya think he'll pay for Esmeralda's hospital bills?" Holli asked. "Is he cruel?"  
"He's nice," Phoebus replied. "He always loved Esme."  
"Okay," Meg echoed. "Let's do it."  
Her voice sounded hollow, but she was prepared. She wanted to save Esmeralda so much. But she kept thinking that there was something off about what Quasi said. Something was pricking her about one of the characters in the back of her mind, and she wasn't sure why.

She had this weird feeling that Reverend Frollo had done something.

Something bad.

* * *

_I can't do it. God gave me the biggest choice I must make: my dignity or my sister. And frankly, I don't know what to choose. I CAN'T do it._

_-Arista_

It was late and Arista was in bed with Robbie in their new apartment.

With the combined money, Arista thought they had a pretty sweet deal for New York City.

They had bought mahogany furniture, off-white carpeting, and set up their beds and their tables and worked with a designer to make the apartment the best it could be.

Arista even put up medals and her mother's ancient mermaid figurines.

Something wouldn't let Arista sleep. Her stomach was clearly noticeable now, and she lay in an oversized sweatshirt, sweating bucketloads because of the stuffiness of the room, the fan whirling on the ceiling, Robbie sleeping next to her with his glasses folded neatly on the bedside table next to the alarm clock.

Suddenly, the phone rang.

Arista snatched it almost right out of the air and breathed a quick, "Hello?"  
Robbie opened his eyes slowly. "Arista? Is everything okay?"  
She was silent, her ice blue eyes going wider and wider and wider, until she dropped the phone straight onto the bed, murmuring a soft, hushed, "Okay."  
"Arista?" Robbie was sitting up now. "Is everything _okay_?"  
Arista was staring blankly at the wall. "I can't—"

Robbie furrowed his brow. "_What_? Wait, I can't see you—hold on—" Robbie fumbled for his glasses and slipped them on, staring at Arista. He looked at her terrified expression and her shaking hands and he reached for her. "Is it the baby? What's wrong?"  
"My—" Arista stopped talking and shivered. "_Robbie._"

"WHAT?" Robbie yelled it out and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. "What _happened_? Did someone die?"  
"My sister—my sister called. They think she's _dead_. Robbie, ohmygod without her my life is a total crappy mess I can't live life without her she's—she's—_ARIEL_!"

Robbie blinked. "Ariel? You mean the girl we met at the cafe? Your sister—the one that didn't want us to get an abortion?"  
"I'd get an abortion if she just lived!" Arista wailed.

"What is happening?" Robbie demanded, thoroughly lost. "What's happened to her?"  
"She got into a car crash on her way home from the Y with her friend, Jasmine!"

Robbie gasped. "Is she alright?"  
Arista shook her head and rocked, sobbing. "No."

"She's..._dead_?" Robbie whispered, shaking his head in horror.

"She's alive, but barely." Arista slid out of bed. "I—I have to go to the hospital." She ran to the door, throwing on a pair of shorts. Robbie slid out of bed as well. "I'll grab the keys—we'll drive."  
But at the door, Arista paused, her hands squeezed around the metal doorknob.

_I can't_. _I'm pregnant. It's obvious, I can't conceal it. They'll know, they'll know, and then what'll happen?  
_Arista stopped and took a step back, stumbling over the stairs, tears running down her face.

_But what if Ariel dies? This may be my last chance to say goodbye. _

Arista hobbled up the stairs but collapsed halfway, unable to get a breath and get her bearings. Se didn't even know what to do. She grabbed her iPhone from her bag breathlessly and dialed Jasmine Nazari's number.

"_Jasmine_!" she wailed. "Pick up, _please_!"

The phone kept ringing. Finally, the Voice told her to leave a damned message.

Arista threw the phone back into her purse and scooted down the stairs, going crazy. She called up Alana again. "How's Ariel?"  
"Oh, she's just peachy!" Alana spat through the phone. "Where the hell are you? She's dripping blood like crazy and the doctors are running around screaming stuff nobody understands. She's asking for you, Arista, she's _asking for you_! Get your ass down here...she _NEEDS YOU_!"

Alana was crying on the other end.

_The Triton Girls were supposed to be made of stone, bone, and diamonds. The strongest substances on earth. The Triton Girls did not cry. _

Arista raked her hands roughly through her messy hair. "I can't come!" she wailed. "I can't!"

"To. Hell. With. That!" Alana was screaming now. "Daddy is here and we need you! Ariel needs you, Arista! She wants you, she is begging us for you. Please, Arista, just _come_!"  
Arista was sobbing so hard she almost fell over. She clung to the couch. She was afraid that if she died anytime soon, she would go straight to hell. To save her honor, she was ditching her little sister in her time of need.

"Ohhhhhhh..." she moaned. She couldn't breathe, and on top of that, she was breathless from screaming into the phone while running around the den best as she could with a swollen stomach.

She was panting now, and Robbie arrived downstairs in a checkered shirt and comfortable pants. His hair was mussed back best he could, and he was jangling the keys. "Arista! We have to go to the hospital!"  
She clung to the couch with all her might. "I can't go, Robbie! I can't make myself go!"  
Robbie narrowed his eyes. "Why not?"  
The truth is a fountain in your heart, but unless you turn it on, it won't flow.

Arista bit back bile from her throat, and the feeling of hopelessness was rising in her. Robbie grabbed the remote. "It's probably on the news!" he realized. "Maybe we can see what's happening here." He put on a flat voice. "We can assess Ariel's potential damage from the wreckage of the car."  
Arista sprawled on the floor, her snot and saliva and tears wetting the sandgrain carpeting.

Robbie turned on the channel 5 news, and suddenly, the reporter Rhianna Walters came on with the news:

"An teenage girl, Ariel Triton, was supposedly driving a friend—Jasmine Nazari—home after a late-night YMCA workout. Along the way, a truck driver under the influence of drugs was unable to gain control of his vehicle and crashed into Miss Triton's car on Rosewater Drive. Lets take a look at some of the damage."

Arista recoiled in horror as they showed the bent out of shape car, twisted and flipped, smoking, a pile of random metal glistening on the dewy wet grass.

"A few words from a distraught friend," Rhianna Walters added, and the camera turned to a gorgeous shot of Jasmine Nazari, sobbing.

She seemed alright, besides a broken ankle and a broken wrist. She was absolutely hysterical.

"I was in the car, with Ariel, we were blasting music." She paused to bury her face into her hands and mop at her cheeks. "The truck came, and I screamed, and Ariel screamed."  
Suddenly, Jasmine turned hysterical. "There was glass. It broke, it sounded like it did in the movies, like, _breaking_. And it was everywhere and it hurt and I fell forward, and something crushed my ankle. And it hurt so bad but I didn't care 'cuz Ariel was screaming and her face was cut up and she was spitting blood. There was so much blood," moaned Jasmine. "You actually don't know how much blood is in your body until you're cut open. And your veins are blue but they should be red. _Right_?!"  
Meanwhile, Arista's phone was ringing repeatedly.

She couldn't stand it anymore. She hit ACCEPT and spat into it: "_WHAT_?"  
"Come!" hollered Alana. "We need you! Ariel's in a bad state, Arista!"

Arista stared at Robbie, who grabbed her wrists. "She's your _sister_. Just because your family doesn't know you're pregnant and with a guy doesn't mean you can just abandon her. She kept your secret. Will you be willing to help her?"  
Arista clicked decline and laid there, sobbing, staring at the hysterical Jasmine Nazari onscreen.

"Why, God?" Arista wailed. "What are you _doing _this to me for? Is this what you want me to do? Forget any honor and dignity I ever had and go to the hospital and show my family I'm pregnant before marriage? Claim that I'm living with my boyfriend in an apartment without even finishing _high school_—all to just see my sister after her crash? Is this your freaking plan?"  
No reply.

Arista stood up slowly.

She made the choice that would define her future.

"I'm going to the hospital."

* * *

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**Byeeeeee!**


	30. Idiots and Music

**Happy Friday all my lovely Crystal Thief followers! TGIF! **

**So is everybody enjoying their last few weeks of school and all that? Yuck, I'm not. Finals and projects and pointless stuff like that. Okay, so I'm really sorry about how I haven't updated in a long while. I got lots of reviews, and I'm going to thank those that reviewed and then get right into the story with you guys, okay? Just a bit of drama and a bit of DaniXFlynn fluff. Hope you guys like it! PS. Do any of my awesome reviewers have a pic collage?**

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* * *

_The biggest idiot in the world is spelled C-L-O-P-I-N. _

_-Phoebus_

In Notre Dame, people bustled and pushed through the crowd, the news of the Execution pulsing like a live beat through newspapers in every New Yorker's hands. Phoebus angrily pushed through the crowd, pulling Meg by one arm and Holli by the other. Quasi led the way through Notre Dame square towards where he thought Clopin might live.

After wading through people for a little while, he stopped, which caused Phoebus to crash into his back. "What? What is it?" Phoebus demanded, a little ticked off.  
"There he is!" Quasi pointed. "Look, I heard that woman call him Clopin. I think that's him. That guy telling those little kids stories."

Phoebus rolled up his sleeves and headed forward into the crowd for Clopin. "Clopin!" he called. "Clopin!"

The man looked up. He wore a dark pink mask along with a funny pointed blue hat and matching clothing with little bells on it. Not to mention funny pointed shoes and...stockings.

Phoebus frowned. "_I asked you a question_. Are you Clopin?"

The man put down the cloth dolls he was telling a story with and set it down on the ground. "Un momento," he said to the children and waltzed over to them. He pointed at Phoebus. "Ah! Phillip, right? Or was it...Florencio? I'm sorry, boy, I really forgot your name. Honestly. It was so long ago, wasn't it?"  
"_Phoebus_," snapped Phoebus.

"Phoebus, why are you upset?" Holli rubbed his arm and moved to Phoebus's side. "Hi, Clopin. I'm Holli Would. I'm Esmeralda's best friend."  
Meg frowed. "I beg to differ. I think _I'm _Esme's best friend."  
Clopin gasped. "Wait, Esme? My little _Esmeralda?_" He rolled out the syllables neatly on his tongue making it sound gorgeous and exotic. Clopin smiled. "Tell her hello from her Uncle Clopin, alrigh', kids?" He started back to the other children.

"Wait!" Meg, desperately, grabbed his arm. "Wait, please. Esmeralda's hurt. Bad. She fell from the top of St. Peters cathedral."  
Clopin gasped again, falling back. Phoebus grabbed his shoulder to steady him. "_WHAT_?" Clopin's eyes were burning black with rage. "As...attempted suicide, you mean?"  
"We think so," Holli told him, because no one dared speak.

Clopin facepalmed. "Is she...?"  
"She's not dead!" Meg held up her hands in front of her. "No, no. But we need to pay the hospital somehow, for her medical bills. The doctor requested it today, and we didn't know anything about her father and mother. We learned her dad—"

"Facilier," realized Clopin. "Yeah, that good-for-nothing trashbag pulled a runner on his own circus when a few animals escaped their cages. Left all the people out of work and fled the coop so the workers wouldn't beat his sorry ass to death."

Phoebus smiled with relief. "So can you help us?"  
Clopin took a deep breath, and then danced away, lightly out of the kids' reach. "Sorry! Can't help. I'd love to, because Esmeralda is very, very _very _dear to my small and cracked heart, but I'm flat broke and homeless. I live on a park bench. And I get meager money by telling kids stupid stories. I have no life, I'm a gypsy, I'm a dancer, I'm a punk. Half the time I'm in jail, and people take away the hidden money I have while I'm doing time in the Big House."  
Phoebus blinked in absolute fury. "Wait, _no_? You're telling us no?"  
Clopin leaned forward. "Can you read my lips? N-O."  
"Let's see if you can read _my_ lips!" Phoebus yelled. "You little worthless shit!"  
"_Phoebus_." Quasi tried to hold him back, but Phoebus slipped away and began to smack Clopin. He threw Clopin to the ground, but that he was no match for the nimble and quick Clopin. Clopin danced out of his reach, jumping atop the puppet stand and walking on the stone wall.

Meg glared, her fists shaking by her sides, and Holli just stared in horror as Phoebus tried to knock him down, throwing rocks but missing.

"Clopin, please, please, come down!" Meg begged. "We need your help! Your niece is dying—and you can't spare a few cents?"  
"It's an 'every-man-for-himself' world out there, darling." Clopin leaned over the edge of the wall. "I need every penny I have hidden for my own survival and well-being. I can't be focused on the survival of other people."  
"But she's your _niece_!" Holli tried desperately.

Clopin shrugged. "I looked after her while I could. If she stayed with me, we could've made a nice life out of it. We could've gotten more money, combined with her awesome as hell dancing skills. And then I'd have no problem paying for her medical bills. But you guys let her get into trouble."  
"We didn't even know she was unhappy!" Meg threw her arms in the air. "Would you get down here?"  
Clopin cocked his head.

"Wait!" Holli raised a hand and strode forward, confidently. Her pink minidress barely covered her toned butt, and Clopin looked with interest at her sexy figure, her half-exposed breasts. She batted her eyelashes, flicked a few strands of blonde hair out of her flawless heart-shaped face, and beckoned to Clopin. He slid down off the wall, and let his long thin legs dangle in front of Holli's face. "Call off your _guard dog_," he said in a sarcastic tone, referring to Phoebus, "and I'll come down and talk to you, girl."  
"Phoebus, stay back there." Holli narrowed her eyes at him and turned back to Clopin, smiling. "It's Holli, by the way."  
Clopin grinned, his black mournful eyes widening in interest as she leaned forward. Holli grabbed him by the collar of her shirt. "Listen close," she whispered, her breath smelling like mint. "You give us _half_ the money we need for Esme's bill. We'll scrounge together the rest. You give us half, and we'll give you something back. How about it?"  
Clopin's smile grew wider as he got closer and closer to Holli. He could feel the movement of her body, smelled the soapy-sweet smell of her perfume. "What will you give me back?"  
"The one thing I _can_," Holli whispered. "Sex."  
Clopin looked taken aback. "Oh, dear God," he said finally. "You know, I'd like to say yes. But unfortunately, I've said no to sex. I've pledged myself to virginity. Like I said, I'm focused on survival and not the...er...good things in life that you have the privilege of having."  
Holli's shoulders slumped. "Wait, then what else do you want?"  
Clopin looked Holli up and down slowly, and then pointed at her charm bracelet. "Is that real silver?"  
"It's an heirloom," Holli said. "I'd take it off, but it's rather special."  
"Special?" Clopin shrugged. "You sell me that bracelet. I'll give you money to save your friend."  
Holli stared at Clopin, shocked. "You want this bracelet? Isn't there anything else? _You don't want sex_?"  
Clopin held up a hand. "Look, I told you my bargain. Now you can choose to say yes or no, Miss Holli." He looked at her expectantly.

Holli didn't say a word. Her mouth opened, then closed.

Clopin turned and began to walk away.

Phoebus saw her expression and narrowed his eyes. "Now look here, you dirty, ground-scraping—"

Holli thought of Esme, bleeding from the head, lying in the hospital with no bills to pay for anything. Those bills could be the difference between life and death. They would build a wall that kept Esme breathing, warm, and kept her heart beating inside her chest. Once the wall disintegrated, all that was left of her would be a silent snow angel, grayish skin, shut eyes, a marble face. Nothing left to remind them of the real Esme.

"WAIT!" Holli charged forward, ripping the charm bracelet off. The Swarovski crystal shepherd's staff charm scratched her wrist and caused a white scrape that soon beaded with droplets of ruby red blood, but Holli scrunched the silver heirloom bracelet up into the palm of her hand and ran in front of Clopin, blocking his way. "Take it!" she snarled, dropping the bracelet into his hand. "Now give us the money."  
Clopin stared at the bracelet. "It's beautiful," he said.

"Give us the damn money!" Holli grabbed his arm. "Give it to us _now_!"  
Clopin stared at Holli, and let his eyes drift from Phoebus to Quasi to Meg.

"You freaking idiot!" Phoebus exclaimed, exasperated. "I swear to God if you don't give us the money right now, I will personally kill you with my bare ha—"

Clopin gestured to them. "Follow me. It's in a coffee can in the cemetery, hidden by Mirela's gravestone."

The Bronson Gang followed Clopin through alleys and through the networking maze of the city.

At last, they arrived at Camelot Cemetery. Clopin pointed to Mirela's gravestone. He stood there, gazing at the cemetery. He dug up a bit on the side, removed a rusted coffee can and held it up. It was full of rolled up bills.

He glanced at Holli. "Give me a little kiss and I'll pay for all of it."  
Holli hesitated, leaned forward, and pecked Clopin on the lips really quickly. Clopin nodded and handed her a bunch of rolled up bills and smiled. "Let her know I said hi and that I love her."

* * *

At the hospital, Dr. Sweet was waiting. "We can't do the operat—" he began.

Phoebus interrupted him. He slapped the bills down on the front counter. "You help my girlfriend in whatever way you can," he said through gritted teeth. "Will this cover it?"

Dr. Sweet looked at the group with wide eyes. "This will do just fine...where did you get it?"

"Is that even freaking important?" Meg walked forward. "We gave you the money, we did not steal it, and you are going to use it to help our friend. _Right_?"  
Dr. Sweet nodded. "Yes. Yes, I am. I promise."

"See to it that you do," Quasi ordered, and soon the children were gone, as if they had never come.

Dr. Sweet stared after the retreating teenagers, saw the poor injured girl in the bed, and grabbed the money and returned to the room, determined to help that girl.

Kids like those inspired him.

* * *

_This crazy and unexpected love is the loveliest. _

_-Flynn_

Flynn kept staring at Dani as she brushed out her long blonde hair and ran ringed fingers through her bangs. She grabbed a tube of eyeliner and began to apply it.

"Dani." Flynn stood behind her and pressed his lips against her cheek, working his way down towards her lips.

Dani rolled her eyes. "Flynn. Not now."  
Flynn knew she was relieved about the execution, and also glad that he had finally made a choice to tell her about the Crystal Thief.

Flynn squeezed next to her on the stool. Dani smacked his arm. "I can't put on eyeliner while you're doing _that_."  
Flynn tilted her face up slowly. "Wanna watch TV?"

Dani smiled. "No. But can we listen to music?"

Flynn tilted his head. "Listen to music? What?"  
Dani stroked the side of Flynn's face. "I've always loved music," she said dreamily. "It's what drives dance, and song. It's psychology for your soul. Life isn't _life_ without music, really. For _me_, anyway," Dani added hastily, looking at Flynn's face.

Flynn shrugged and smacked the radio, turning it on.

"'_Cuz all of me, loves all of you_."

Dani let out a squeal. "John Legend! I love this song!"  
"_All your curves and all your edges, your perfect imperfections."_

Dani ran to the bed and flopped down onto it. Flynn followed, a soft smile on his face. He laid down next to her and cupped his hands softly around her face. "I love you, Dani," he whispered.

"Why me?" Dani's voice was soft and careful. "Just a question, Flynn. I'm just some random freshman girl and you're, like, a junior."

Flynn shrugged. "You just seem like something out of this world. I've never met a girl like you. Every girl I ever hung out with was a slut. But you—you're amazing."  
Dani laughed. "Oh yeah?" She wiggled around. "You too."  
Flynn rolled over onto his back. "Eugene."  
Dani glanced at him. "_What_?"  
"Eugene. My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert. Flynn Rider is just a cool name I thought would suit me well. See, I moved here from Las Vegas and I was known as the orphan Eugene Fitzherbert there. So I decided to change my name from Eugene Fitzherbert to Flynn Rider. But this is the real me, I promise."  
"So..." Dani glanced up at him. "Does Eugene Fitzherbert love me? Or Flynn Rider?"  
Flynn grinned. "Both?"  
Dani grinned as well. She leaned forward and they pressed their lips together. Dani slid her hands up and down Flynn's chest and he probed underneath her face, tilting her chin up as he kissed her.

And Dani loved every bit of this strange and crazy and unexpected love as John Legend's song played in the background:

'_Cause all of me _

_Loves all of you_

_Loves your curves and all your edges_

_All your perfect imperfections_

_Give your all to me_

_I'll give my all to you_

_You're my end and my beginning_

_\Even when I lose I'm winning_

'_Cause I give you all of me_

_And you give me all of you. _

**Hey guys! The End of this chapter! 3+ reviews and I'll update the next chapter!**

**Have a great weekend-and don't forget to be your awesome selves!**

**-Crystal**


	31. Endings and Reveals

**Heyyyy lovely readers!**

**Happy Sunday. Aaaaaand school is tomorrow. Just like that, my mood went down. But I made another chapter! Idk, I thought it was cute. If you think not, please don't be mean in your reviews, k? I don't really have anything to say but THANK YOU for all the reviews I got on this story. Honestly, I never expected this much. Love you guys all dearly!**

**Thanks to those who commented!**

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**She knows**

* * *

_Endings aren't my thing. But maybe you can make it?_

_-Peter_

Peter was telling a story.

Alice had never heard anyone tell a story as well as Peter did. He had told her the fairytale of Little Red Riding hood, adding pirates and witches and dragons that swooped down and carried off the heroine.

"But then the dragon dropped her off in front of her boyfriend," Peter said, waving his hands animatedly. Dazzled, Alice sat on the floor as if in a trance and giggled as Peter ruffled his own reddish hair when he said "boyfriend."

Alice waited for Peter to continue. He just stood there, gazing into her eyes. "Um," he said.

Alice tilted her head. "Um? Is that...it? Where's the rest of the story?"  
"Um." Peter raised his eyebrows. "Yeah. I'm...I'm no good at endings. Endings are overrated."

Alice smiled a little. "Aw, Peter, the endings are the best part. You have to finish stories. They're even more important than beginnings, in my opinion."  
Peter shrugged. "Endings aren't really my thing, Alice. But maybe you can make it?"  
"The ending?" Alice shrugged and leaned back against the bedpost. "Okay, Peter." Alice thought about a good ending, and decided to make up something random. "But then...Red Riding Hood," she began. "took her boyfriend's hand and wanted to kiss him. But he wasn't much for kissing." She gestured at Peter, who nodded excitedly.

"So, Red asked for a gift, for her boyfriend to remember him by, after she returned to her own home from leaving her grandmother's town. So he gave her a small metal trinket that had been passed down through his family. And in turn, she gave him a trinket of her own. They both kept the trinkets forever, so even though they couldn't be together, they had small remembrances of each other that they would never let go of as long as they lived."

Peter raised his eyebrows.

Alice tucked a wisp of blonde hair behind her ear. "The end."

Peter clapped. "Standing ovation for the best storyteller ever."  
Alice blushed and ducked her head. "Thank you, Peter, but I only made up the ending. The story isn't mine."

Peter pulled a piece of her yellow hair gently. "You still have to go, don't you?"  
Alice looked down. "I do, Peter. I'm so sorry."

Peter shrugged. "No big deal." He jumped up onto the bedpost and walked along it, balancing perfectly. He stood with one leg up in the air, his balance amazing. "No big deal," he repeated.

"No," said Alice. "It _is_ a big deal. I'll have to get going soon, Peter, but can I give you a kiss first?"  
Peter took a deep breath and jumped off the footboard of the bed and placed his hands on her shoulders. "No. I have a better idea." He scrounged through his pockets, checking all around, and finally came out with a small silver thing. He fingered it, his back to Alice, running his fingers along it. It was originally Cindy's, and it was a beautiful silver acorn. He spun around and handed it to Alice. "For you," he said softly. "To remember me by?"

Alice choked. "_Oh, Peter_!"  
She grabbed the acorn and stared at it. She smiled. "I'll keep it forever. Oh!" She rooted around in her pockets as well, and then ran to her dresser and swept her hand along it and through the few top drawers, looking for something worth to give Peter. Her hands settled on something circular, like a bracelet. She pulled it out. It was her charm bracelet by the most popular jewelry manufacturers in New York, _Wonderland_.

Alice looked over each of the charms carefully. There were many charms on the silver bracelet: a striped wide-eyed cat with a long banana-like smile; a bottle of tonic; a stopwatch; and symbols you'd normally find on playing cards, two spades, two hearts, two clubs, and two diamonds. Alice looked over the charms and ripped off one of the hearts. She bit her lip and held out the charm. "Um, h-here, Peter," she said softly. "There's two of everthing else so everytime I notice that there's only one of these hearts I'll realize that you have it."  
"I have your real heart too." Peter said finally. "Right?"  
Alice blinked, and a tear slid out of the corner of her eye. "Right."

Peter leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Alice's waist, and the two of them hugged for a long time.

Suddenly, they heard a honk from outside.

"My sister!" Alice sucked in air. "Peter, Peter, I have to go."  
Peter gripped her arm tightly. "Don't leave, Alice!"  
Alice shook her head. "Please, please, _please_, Peter, please don't make this harder than it already has to be."

Peter gripped the heart charm and held Alice's arm, then slowly let go. "So goodbye then?"  
"I'm no good at goodbyes," said Alice, wiping her eyes.

"Me neither." Peter tilted her face up. "We'll see each other again, right? This isn't the end, right, Alice?"  
"Endings are overrated," said Alice with a tiny grin.

"But they're the best part," Peter whispered.

"And they usually end happily ever after," Alice replied. "So I _know _this isn't our ending."  
She ran downstairs and out the door, waving to Peter every step of the way.

_This isn't our ending_, Peter thought. Alice wasn't a princess. Peter wasn't a prince. But their happily ever after would soon come—they just didn't know it yet.

_We met, it seems, such a short time ago_

_You looked at me—needing me so_

_Yet from your sadness_

_Our happiness grow_

_And I found out I needed you too_

_I remember how we used to play_

_I recall those rainy days_

_The fire's glow_

_That kept us warm_

_And now I find—we're both alone._

_Goodbye may seem forever_

_Farewell is like the end_

_But in my heart is a memory_

_And there you'll always be_.

* * *

_I'm glad I told them the truth now, rather than holding it off for later._

_-Arista_

Robbie stopped the car at the hospital, and Arista sprinted—which was difficult with her swollen belly—across the parking lot and ran to the front desk. "Ariel Triton," she panted. "I'm her sister, please, how is she?"  
The receptionist gaped at Arista, who smacked her hand down repeatedly on the desk. "Did you hear me? Are you freaking deaf?" Arista shrieked.

Robbie entered and pulled Arista away. He spoke to the receptionist in a low voice, and she gave him directions to the room where Ariel was. "She's in the Intensive Care Unit," he told Arista in a soft voice. "She's hopefully going to be okay. Let's go check out how she's doing with the doctor, okay? And then let's go talk to your family."  
Arista trembled just thinking about it.

She flicked a piece of white blonde hair out of her pretty face and allowed Robbie to lead her down to the ICU, where a doctor with streaked hair and tan skin was waiting. She was very tall and wore a white coat over a black turtleneck. "Hi, I'm Dr. Julia Makai," she said with a smile.

Arista felt better seeing that smile. It made her feel like Ariel was okay. "I'm Arista Triton," she said. "Ariel's sister. And this is my boyfriend, Robbie Frayman."  
"Nice to meet you both," said Dr. Makai, shaking their hands. "Now, Ariel, is very lucky. She has six broken ribs, unfortunately. And she lost a lot of blood from a contusion in the side of her stomach. Her forehead was hit with pieces of shattered glass, but none of them went near her brain, thank goodness, because that would have made this whole process a lot more tricky. She was bleeding heavily when we found her, and her left leg was crushed underneath the bottom part of the car."  
"_Crushed_?" Arista wheezed. "Oh, God. Oh, _God_. Please don't tell me she has to lose her leg."  
"No, no, honey!" Dr. Makai held up two hands. "No, no. We think it's alright, as long as the antibiotics we've started her on gets rid of all that nasty infection. It should be alright. We've stitched up any wounds, done bloodwork, and everything seems to be okay. We've removed the glass shards, and her leg is clearly broken. We're doing an operation tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. to get the bones back in place and then we're going to set it in a cast. She seems like the strong type."  
"My sister said she was asking for me," breathed Arista. _Holy God, she was gonna have a heart attack_.

Arista was wearing baggy track pants and a loose t-shirt. It was so easy to tell she was pregnant at this stage. She was afraid to face her family.

"Ariel was," said Dr. Makai. "She asked for _Arista_ specifically, which is you. She was lying their moaning, bleeding heavily, trying to free herself from the gurney. She was moaning for you, saying she wanted you. And she was crying for her mother." Respectfully, Dr. Makai bowed her head.

Arista choked on her grief. It tasted like blood and ashes and death. "Ariel."  
"She's gonna be okay," Dr. Makai reassured Arista. "We're taking excellent care of her. The last fancy-schmancy thing she has to get done is the leg surgery tomorrow, and that's a fairly simple process for us. Okay?"  
Arista sniffled. "Okay. Thank you for taking good care of her, Doctor."  
Dr. Makai touched Arista's shoulder sympathetically. "No problem. Your father and sisters are in the waiting room. Perhaps you'd like to go see them...?"  
Arista sucked in air. This was the defining moment, the moment that drew the wall between total shunning from her family. The moment that created her future, her ending.

She strode down the waiting room, her green jacket back on, concealing her stomach, and stepped into the waiting room, a disgruntled Robbie right on her heels.

"Arista!" her father stood up, opening his arms up wide.

"Arista! _Ohmygod_, you're here!" Alana stood up.

The other girls rose too, murmuring praises to God and coming towards her to embrace their sister. Triton raised his snowy white eyebrows. "Wait, who's this?"  
Arista narrowed her eyes. She couldn't hide behind lies anymore. She couldn't keep building a house out of the lies she told. She had to destroy the house. She would be homeless, but she'd have Robbie. And her baby, soon to come. And Ariel, if everything worked out in her favor.

"My boyfriend," Arista replied, and shrugged out of her green jacket.

It was as if time had frozen up. The looks of shock on her family's face made Arista wish she hadn't marched in here with Robbie like she owned the hospital.

Her father staggered back against the wall, sliding onto the couch. "Good God, Arista!" he cried.

Attina let out a shriek and covered her hand with her mouth.

No one said anything.

It was Andrina who broke the silence. She crossed her arms over her fairly substantial chest and made a smug little face that looked like a smirk to Arista, which was _disgusting _and _low_—even for Andrina—considering the circumstances.  
"Well, well, well," said Andrina in a cold whisper. "Little Arista's no longer a virgin."

Arista opened her mouth to protest.

Andrina moved forward and shoved Arista hard. "YOU'RE PREGNANT? YOU'RE IN FRICKIN' _HIGH SCHOOL_!"

Robbie moved protectively in front of Arista, but Andrina wasn't done. "_Do you understand what's happening here_?" she demanded. "Our sister is dying, and you show up _pregnant_? That is an ILLEGITIMATE baby you're having!"  
Arista didn't say a word. "I'm not here for you _sluts_," she hissed. "I'm here for _Ariel_. Do you understand me? You can kick me out of this family if you want. I'm here because Ariel is here, and I love her. You can say what you want to say, Andrina, but I'm staying right here because as far as I'm concerned, Ariel is my sister, and she hasn't _disowned _me yet."  
Triton kept shaking his head. "Not my little girl," he kept saying. "Not Arista."  
Arista sucked in air. She couldn't stop the tears, but she knew she had to wait for Ariel—do something for her after all Ariel had done for her.

Arista sat down to wait.

It was 1 in the morning.

9 hours to go until Ariel's leg surgery, and then possibly a bit longer for Ariel to wake up and begin to accept visitors.

She glared at her sisters, who were glowering back at her like they had murder on their mind. Triton had left the waiting room.

_Fine, girls. You want to shun me? Bring it on. I'll be here. For as long as necessary. _

_Just for Ariel_.

* * *

**The end! Like it, hate it, love it? Review! **

**And the song in the first part is "Goodbye May Seem Forever" from The Fox and the Hound Disney movie. **

**-Crystal**


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